In These Brief Moments
by Yaksamillion
Summary: Grimmjow fights in a cage, Ichigo plays music for the crowd. Grimmjow can see but is blinded by his resentment, Ichigo can hear but is deafened by his loneliness. Both find solace in the other's infinite world. (rated M for yaoi/smut, alcohol, violence, and drug usage)
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone, this is a short disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Bleach, I am simply a fan writing fiction. I however due own the cover photo. This story will contain some mature content such as alcohol and drug usage, please do not attempt either. Also there will be smut/yaoi love eventually. Now carry on and I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Chapter 1

 _In these brief moments, we are young Gods_

The memories play back like an old film real. The image slightly distorted, as the colours have faded, not as pure as they once were. How he felt about the memories however had not changed; they were his everything. He could take them out and let them play in his head whenever he closed his eyes. So precious, perfect. They played out before him when he was at his lowest, but they did not always cheer him up. No, sometimes they kicked him down even further into the gutter. Because in his heart of hearts he knew that that was _then_ and _this_ is now.

Biased images of times of smiles transition into times of sorrow before rewinding. Always playing a different story but always the same sequence, the film must be caught on a loop. These memories were no different: a brief flash of when his mother first put him into a martial arts class. The transition always occurred when his mum was smiling – too beautiful – her face was then covered behind glass, flowers and a white bow around the top corners of her picture frame. The fire always hot upon his face as the casket was placed into the incinerator.

Grimmjow didn't like to dwell on the past but it always reared its ugly head when he was feeling even the slightest bit down. They got worse when he drank and right now he was drinking away the physical pain. Every part of his body ached, his knuckles in particular as he had done a terrible job wrapping them up in gauze before the fights. He had taken a firm kick to his left ribs, lucky shot. He had fought twice tonight both back to back, he didn't care the money was good. Especially since he always won.

 _Are you missing me?_

The door to the changing room opened as two bodies walked in, not needing to be announced, one a woman the other a man. The woman was tall with an hourglass figure that deserved to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated instead of coaching his broke ass. Her cropped blonde hair complimented her tanned skin beautifully, perfect eyelashes surrounded aquamarine eyes that radiated intensity and a defiance that she carried gracefully. Tia Halibel wasn't afraid of neither anything nor anyone.

She had to be in such an industry; women were taken as a joke as they strut along the stage with large signs in their hands – either of advertisements or of which round the fight was going into. She was the one to approach Grimmjow and promise him top-notch training and the best fights he could get so long as he didn't look like a chump. She had kept her word and gone above and beyond and so he had kept his end of the bargain. A woman coach was unheard of and could be considered a joke to many in the cage that is if you came out looking like a sucker. But he was always the defiant type and they became unstoppable.

The man wasn't as tall as Halibel but he carried himself with a grace that others dare not ignore. Jet-black hair which dropped to his shoulders and a complex that looked a pasty white, two green tattooed lines running down horizontally from his ivy green eyes. Ulquiorra Cifer was the complete opposite of the woman he walked beside. Quiet, reserved, and impassive he looked better suited to a concert hall as long fingers would have done wonder behind a grand piano. Yet those fingers had found their muse in treating any injuries that Grimmjow had managed to gain from his fights.

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra went back to high school when the pair would often sneak off and cut class to get stoned on the roof. When Grimmjow heard Ulquiorra had dropped out of med school due to 'conflict of interest'. Whatever that meant. They had ran into each other soon after Halibel had started training him, she leapt at the chance to get someone to patch him up when it was needed. Ulquiorra simply accepted out of boredom – it wasn't as though he were doing anything productive with his time now that med school was no longer an option.

"You started off strong in the first fight," began Halibel pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Her tone didn't sound to impressed. Great, she was going to be critical today, "but you damn near got your ass handed to you in the second fight."

"I won didn't I," said Grimmjow taking the final guzzle from the beer bottle, throwing the empty glass into a cardboard box.

"It was a sloppy win at that. You were lucky that Madarame only knows how to charge in and can't block worth shit," she said cocking her hip out and crossing her arms. Her face always stern, never revealing any emotion.

"I was also lucky that bald head of his didn't blind me."

Ulquiorra sat down beside him. Legs on either side of the wooden bench as he placed the small white first aid kit on the ground beside him. Taking out an antiseptic, cotton balls, and some bandages his unwavering stare focused on the bloody knuckles, "left."

"Though it probably didn't help that I had knocked his bro with the feathers on his eyes down in less than five minutes right before his match," said Grimmjow, handing over his left hand, wincing a bit when the damp cotton ball made contact with the wounds, "Kenpachi must be pissed that both his boys were taken down on the same night."

"I couldn't give two shits about what Kenpachi is thinking. All those boys are is flair with nothing to back it up," Halibel wasn't lying. She never gave any fighters respect unless they earned it. Kenpachi's boys were good, just not to her standards, "were you drinking before the match again?"

"Right," piped up Ulquiorra as had finished with one hand and moved onto the next one.

The room fell silent as Grimmjow's eyes connected with his trainers. A soundless battle was going off between the two. He could see the anger and annoyance in the woman's eyes. There was also disappointment in them, he didn't like seeing that; it made him feel like he was a child in the playground being scolded by his mum. Goddamn her. His eyes narrowed to show his own petty defiance a small grin curling up the right side of his face.

Ulquiorra had finished with his hand and begun to repack everything in the first aid kit. He scooted back on the bench and watched as the two entered into a silent exchange. Within a blink of an eye Halibel's leg came inches away from Grimmjow's face, making his hair move with a small gust of air – eyes widening a fraction. How could this woman move so fast? The medic in the room looked unfazed by what had just transpired, though it always impressed him when the coach moved so fast.

"Clean your shit up Grimm. I don't have time to babysit," Halibel broke the stillness as she removed her foot from the small crater she had created in the locker behind Grimmjow's head. Heading in the direction of the door she shot back, "be in the gym tomorrow at eleven A.M. sharp."

"Sure."

"Thanks for your hard work," said Ulquiorra in a bored voice.

It took a few minutes before anyone could say anything. Grimmjow hated when she did shit like this. It was only a few beers; it hadn't affected his performance, had it? It was Ulquiorra who decided to speak first, "you know she's right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You did look sloppy during the first round even if Feathers was trying to look like modern art in the cage."

A low grunt answered Ulquiorra as the man got up to go and place the first aid back where it had come from. He returned in no time hanging by the doorway, waiting for Grimmjow to get his shit together so that they could leave. The fighter had promised to buy drinks if he won both fights. Ulquiorra being an opportunist was about to take full advantage of this. It wasn't so often that the man offered to buy drinks that and he didn't have to be at the gym as early as Grimmjow tomorrow.

"Hurry up. I want you to regret the decisions you've made today as I pound back a cold one. Drinks are on you by the way."

That earned an earnest chuckle from the man who was still slouched on the wooden bench. Standing up he grabbed a white towel and headed towards the showers to wash off as much of the sweat from his body that he could. He didn't like having the fine layer of salty grime on him it made him feel sticky. The shower was quick, he didn't like being in the showers that the arenas offered. They were dingy and the water pressure fluctuated as much as the temperature. Lord knows what kind of fungi were waiting to attach to the bottom of one's feet that dwelled upon the tiled floor.

At least there was still some hot water left and the water pressure was bearable. He washed himself off quickly scrubbing every inch of his well-toned body. Years in the cage had made his body into a lethal weapon. That and the training regimes that Halibel had made him endure over the years were almost the death of him in the beginning. However the training at the beginning was nothing compared to now.

 _But it's too late to common home._

Turning off the water – the pipes giving a very audible sound of protest – he wrapped the white towel around his firm waist. Walking out of the shower area lead into a room with a long mirror and a row of sinks on one side while the opposite wall was were the urinals and toilet stalls were. Placing his shower kit beside a sink he inspected himself in the mirror, accessing to see if either of Kenpachi's boys had managed to mangle his face.

Grimmjow had always been called a handsome man. Many of his features had once been compared multiple times to a younger version of Marlon Brando. He had taken that as a compliment after Googling the man and could see the similarities. A strong square jawline, fine lips, and a nose too which had only suffered a few breaks, and cyan blue eyes made up his face. However his defining trait, which had set him far apart from everyone, was his unnatural cerulean blue hair. This hair had been what had gotten him into so many fights as a kid; it was as though destiny had been making him into a fighter all along.

Walking back to the changing room he slipped into a pair of jeans and a simple grey hoodie. Shit kicker red classic Converse were taking more trouble to put on as the heels had managed to bend back making Grimmjow curse as he tried to adjust the shoe. Throwing his fighting gear into his gym bag he walked out of the small fighting stadium to where Ulquiorra was probably waiting for him.

Waving to the security guard on duty – he always forgot their names – who paid him no mind, he pushed open the front door were the petite raven haired boy was leaning against the railing. A fresh cigarette being lit in his mouth – Grimmjow hated the smell of smoke. The pair walked towards Grimmjow's blue 1970 jaguar, the only car that had been left in the parking lot. Ulquiorra flicked his half spent cig into a puddle as he walked around to get in the passenger side. Had it rained since the fights had begun?

Much of the drive was spent in silence, a comfortable silence, and the soft hum of the radio the only thing between the pair. With one hand on the wheel and the other on the stick Grimmjow was the first to break the peace, "I think I'm going to retire from fighting soon."

"No you won't." Ulquiorra didn't even miss a beat; the man was currently looking out the window. A couple of construction works preparing for the night shift to do road maintenance.

"Maybe not soon, but I will. I'm turning twenty-six in a month, don't you think that's too old to still be in the ring?"

"No." responded the other as the car came to a stop at a red. The radio had switched to some J-Pop song which had been climbing the charts lately, it was an annoying song, "Halibel told me that Kenpachi had stayed in the ring until he was forty-six. Hell Baraggan and old man Yamamoto just celebrated their last fight and God knows how old those two are."

"I guess."

A pause grew between them as Grimmjow made a few turns to get onto one of the highways which would take them into one of Tokyo's downtown districts: Shinjuku. "Why the sudden desire to retire all of a sudden?"

A grunt and lifting of shoulders was the only answer that Ulquiorra got. The topic dropped as the radio cut off a song to announce that a collision on the highway was slowing down all traffic that were heading in the directions of Shinjuku and Shibuya. "Shit, that's us isn't it?"

Grimmjow got his answer as a visible line of red taillights began to grow. Merging into the line he let a small Nissan cut in front of him as they inched forward slowly. Rain began to slowly trickle down as they crept their way forward at a slow pace. They soon came up to the collision though the fire trucks, police cruisers, and the ambulance were trying their hardest to block much of the scene as they could – their flashing lights blinding all who were beside them.

 _Can you forgive my sad song?_

From what Grimmjow could see it looked as though a city bus had toppled over after possibly colliding with the transport that looked as though it had seen better days. A Toyota Corolla was as well on its side, its rear end completely nonexistent. A police officer was standing in front of three people, possibly the drivers of the transport and Corolla and a passenger of one of the vehicles.

"Should we pull over?" Grimmjow asked as they were nearing the end of the gridlock, the orange pylons opening up more lanes. Grimmjow looked over at Ulquiorra who was looking ahead a rather uninterested look on his face, "aren't you able to help or something?"

Nothing. So Grimmjow continued, "I mean sure you dipped out of med school, but didn't you take the Hippocratic oath or somethin'...?"

"Those people don't need my help Grimm," Ulquiorra slowly spoke in a calm tone. He didn't seemed bothered by it, so Grimmjow didn't bother to press the matter, "the ambulances weren't loading survivors."

"What?"

How was he even able to see anything from all those flashing lights?

"You don't load the living in black body bags."

* * *

The crowd was loud. They always were, so full of energy and excitement that was only hyped up from the drugs they took and the alcohol they drank. Some looked into the flashing lights while others danced in movements that didn't make sense. They were following the music because the music didn't judge them. So they lost themselves in the beats and threw their hands up to the treble and pump their hips when the bass shook their skeleton.

Ichigo stood behind the DJ booth fiddling with the soundboard in front of him while adding a few notes from the keyboard to his right. His MacBook's screen keeping up with the tracks he was playing. His red and white Beats gave him a break from the cheering so he could focus on the mixes and changes he was making to the song. But he wanted to hear what everyone else was bearing. Slipping the headphones around his neck he made a quick adjustment by turning a nob on the soundboard.

Marvin Gaye's voice filled the large room as Ichigo's personal remix to the hit song _Sexual Healing_ always got the crowd going. There was shouting as his eyes drew up to look at the crowd. There were two levels to this club: the dance floor, which was packed, and a balcony area were a lot of girls were dancing against the rail. A smile drew across his face as he raised one hand in the air – he could feel the vibrations of sound and it tickled the tips of his fingers. Marvin's voice dropped suddenly as Ichigo took complete control of the sound.

It was almost time to wrap up the show so he was going to put on a performance. A deep drumbeat began making the crowd scream with delight, hands flying into the air. This made Ichigo smirk, most of them were regulars and knew what was coming next others were just going with the flow. With a jump Ichigo unleashed a barrage of sound upon the club. The music was like an electronic orchestra as different noise merging together while simultaneously fighting for complete dominance.

 _Do you feel like a young God?_

A sudden blast of trumpets erupted from the opening as Ichigo added a feeling of Bollywood to the sound. He always changed up is outro, making sure that he would be remembered for the night. Moving the headphones back to his ears he concentrated on weaving sound creating a resonance that filled the room making them think they were in the midst of a celebration in the streets of Mumbai. He was bringing the flavour of India to the clubs of Japan tonight.

Moving to the keyboard he added a few sounds that stuck to his electronic roots. The build up was coming and he was going to end with a Bollywood bang. Raising both hands in the air the melody picked up and the crowd jumped as an electronic tsunami washed over the club. They could feel it, he knew they could; beautiful colours as dust paint was being thrown in the crowd. The sun beating down on them as dancing became sporadic.

The music ended and the crowd stopped jumping, applauding Ichigo as he grabbed a microphone that was handed to him. He bowed slightly to the masses in appreciation for the night, raising the mic to his mouth all he said was, "thank you."

The crowd cheered. He grabbed his MacBook and disconnected it from the soundboard, wrapping his Beats up putting both expensive pieces of personal equipment into his brown leather messenger bag and getting off the stage. Music returned as an annoying song came on, he recognized it from the radio it had recently gotten popularity.

He walked to the back of the club were the noise was slightly dulled and one could hear themselves think. He walked into a room, which was designated for the DJs and some staff. Three individuals were all sitting on a salmon coloured felt couch talking in idle conversation. The room was plain; promo posters – which were a few months old – adorn the beige walls, three lockers sat untouched behind the couches, and a wooden coffee table sat in front of the couches. Ichigo hung his bag up on an available hook, rubbing his eyes as he took a spot beside a small black haired woman.

"Thanks for your hard work," she said handing Ichigo a bottle of water. She knew the man very rarely drank beer and the exhaustion from putting on a show usually made on dehydrated.

"Ditto," Ichigo said taking the water from the woman's hand.

The woman's name was Kuchiki Rukia, one of the few female DJs that Ichigo actually knew. From what he knew of her she came from a wealthy family, as her stepbrother was head of Kuchiki Pharmaceutics, a supposed family business that dated back to the Meji-era of Japan. Though adopted into the family at a young age, she had always felt like an outcast and found comfort in creating music. That was all he needed to know.

She was short and a very skinny woman who would have probably done better at going into modelling; she had the ideal body figure for it. An oval face with thin lips and violet almond shaped eyes, her face being framed by her black bobbed haircut. She had a spitfire attitude, which would come and go whenever someone got all up in her business. Lately it had been the sexist mindset that 'girls couldn't disk jockey', she had put that idea to grave in one night. She had to fight and earn her place in Tokyo's DJ underground industry.

A small nervous man appeared in the doorframe holding a headset and clipboard in one hand. In a whisper of a voice the man said, "Hisagi-san, you are on in fifteen."

Hisagi Shuuhei. There wasn't very much to say about the man; black hair, a blue band tattoo which ran from the right side of his face to the bridge of his nose below it a sixty-nine tattoo, three scars ran down his left eye all ending at his jawline, basically he looked like a badass. Ichigo enjoyed Shuuhei's presence, he was always calm and collected waiting for the next move. Opinionated at sometimes but never disrespectful, the man also had a hard time talking to women from what he heard.

His DJ-ing reflected his Buddhist upbringing as it was calm and soothing but one could still dance the night away to it. Where Ichigo had just slain the crowd, Shuuhei was called in to give a final prayer to the dearly departed. The man stood up grabbing his laptop that had been charging in the corner.

"What kind of state did you leave them in Ichigo?" asked Shuuhei. All of the DJ's at Hollows called each other by their first name formalities were too much sometimes.

"I took them to Delhi," answered Ichigo kicking up his legs to rest on the coffee table.

"…Fantastic."

Each DJ at Hollows had a different style to their music. Rukia was melodic and layered with different instruments, she was usually the one who opened the show, and it was all too easy for her to pump up the crowd when she got going. Ichigo's was always considered 'worldly' as he used different sounds that were inspired by different countries. Shuuhei's was known as the calm before the storm; his music was easy to dance to and calmed the atmosphere. And finally: Renji who was an absolute barbarian when it came to sound as he made the building shake, the climax to a perfect night.

"Delhi? Always something knew with you Ichi," a deeper voice came from across the room belonging to Renji. The man was pretty big as he wasn't afraid to hit the weights. Tribal tattoos adorn his entire body; long fire truck red hair always pulled back into either a bun or a messy ponytail. A beige bandana kept any stray hairs off his forehead – a personal pet peeve – a shit eater's grin usually on his face.

"How else do I keep it one hundred?" said Ichigo, which earned a chuckle from Rukia.

"You take a sip of this," Renji threw a bottle of Canada Dry at Ichigo, a quizzical look growing on his face. _Ginger ale?_

"It's spiked," Rukia answered the question before it could be asked, "Renji just dumped a shit ton of pills in the thing, it's a fun trip but it doesn't last long."

"You can escape while we wait for the pizza."

Ichigo gave the green plastic bottle a once over before unscrewing the cap and taking a mouthful of the liquid. Instant regret filled his mouth as a foul taint that tasted as though rust and bile had made a love child and what came out was this drink. His face going sour, the other three DJs laughed at Ichigo's expense.

It took less than twenty minutes for the Canada Dry surprise to kick in and it took Ichigo so far away. He was transported to another time and place; bright light consumed him, as his body was completely naked. When his eyes adjusted he realized that he was in the middle of a golden field of barley. He moved the tips of his fingers across the plants, making his body shiver and goose bumps crawl up his arms. It was so soft.

He walked further into the endless field of gold his arms outreached to either side of him, the barley bending as Ichigo walked through the meadow. The soil was supple on the bottom of his feat, cool brown earth starting to colour his bare feet. Then there was sound. It came from far off in the distance; it was beckoning Ichigo to go towards it. He took off in a sprint in the direction he believed it to be, it sounded familiar.

 _Do you feel like a young God?_

The meadow opened into a vast lake, the water as blue as the sky and still like glass. He approached it and saw his reflection in the water, clear like crystal and more polished than any silver he had ever seen, it was a mirror. Ichigo had always found his facial features fairly plain; thin lips, a sharp chin, hazelnut brown eyes, sun-touched skin, and a small patch of freckles running across the bridge of his nose. The one striking feature that set him apart from every other person was his orange hair. It had gotten him an ass kicking when he was young but since he was a DJ now it suit him.

The pure water rippled making Ichigo break eye contact with his reflection to look out into the vast blue. The meadow had been replaced by water too which Ichigo was somehow standing upon he wasn't sinking. Some brushed against his dirt stained feet making him bend down to pick up a folded paper crane. Many other folded cranes floated down the water in the direction that the sound was coming from. When the first crane hit the horizon a bright light engulfed Ichigo again bringing him back to the felt salmon coloured couch.

Shuuhei was leaning against one of the walls drinking a water bottle observing the conversation that Rukia and Renji were deeply involved in. A pizza box sat on the coffee table, Ichigo shifted in his spot feeling stiffness down his back. Realizing he was still cradling the Canada Dry surprise he got up and placed it on the table.

"Holy shit," said Ichigo, rubbing his eyes.

"I know right," said Shuuhei as he made eye contact with Ichigo.

"What the hell is in this?" asked Ichigo

"Mostly LSD. I counterbalanced it with ecstasy and some 'shroom juice for added sensation overload," answered Renji as the same man who had gotten Shuuhei appeared in the doorway.

"How long was I out for?"

"All of Shuuhei's set," Rukia spoke, "I think you got it easy. Shuu and I took it during your set and I came to from a mad trip. I think the mind reacts to the music that's being played."

That made sense since Ichigo had felt pretty comfortable during his trip, "man that was something else."

"What's everyone up to after my set?" asked Renji.

"Probably grabbing some tea and heading home, I'm heading in your direction if you want to join?" answered Shuuhei as both he and Renji lived in the Arakawa district.

"Perfect. How about you two?"

"I'm crashing at Ichigo's tonight, I have to leave for Nagaya early tomorrow and Ichi lives close to the bullet train station," Rukia responded shifting in her spot grabbing a piece of pizza.

"Bow-chika-woa-woa," teased Renji, earning a small chuckle from the two boys and an eye roll from Rukia.

With that being said Renji walked out of the room and towards the dance floor. The three in the room returned to idle chatter. Shuuhei talking about going to see a few concerts within the next month, Rukia explaining her business in Nagaya which had something to do with the family, and Ichigo occasionally joining in with a few comments. When Renji returned all four gathered their stuff and walked out of Hollows, giving their thanks to Yammi (the bar owner) before splitting up and going their separate ways.

They had just made it into the train station when the rain started to lazily fall from the sky.

 _Do you see the light at the end?_

* * *

"How is Orihime?" asked Grimmjow. He was still on his first beer while Ulquiorra had managed to pound at least three back and was currently working on his fourth.

Orihime was Ulquiorra's airhead girlfriend. She was brilliant but completely ditsy and tended to go off on strange tangents. She was also a horrible cook. The pair had met in med school and had continued their long distance relationship when Ulquiorra dropped out and came back to Tokyo, "You know."

"That's a bullshit answer," responded Grimmjow as he waved down the waitress.

"She's…sporadic? She's almost done with schooling and is planning on coming back to Tokyo to do an internship," Ulquiorra elaborated, he swung back the beer in three gulps. Impressive, "she's been stressing out lately. We get into more fights than before. I think she's getting tired of the distance."

"She's not a quitter," was all Grimmjow said. Behind that blank exterior he knew the other man was having an inner turmoil with what himself. He loved her, but he would never say it out loud.

Empathy was sometimes a greater action than sympathy ever could be.

"What about Halibel?" asked Ulquiorra.

"What about her?"

"That's a bullshit answer. Don't answer my question with a question."

 _Hmm_. Grimmjow ran his hand through his blue locks contemplating how he was going to answer the question. The waitress chose this time to come by with the bill to which Grimmjow paid. "Thank you for your services."

Letting out a sigh he begun, "you are aware that we fucked. But that was what five years ago? She's long since moved on from me. Last she told me, she was with that Starrk guy. He treats her right, so I don't have to do anything."

"Your love life is kind of boring," Ulquiorra stood up grabbing his leather jacket and throwing it over his shoulder as the pair walked out of the bar, "and lonely."

 _Hmm_. Was all Grimmjow could say to that as he kinda agreed with the man. Sure there were the occasional hook-ups but nothing serious, nothing clicked. Romance is overrated, love was created by Hollywood, and relationships are no different from extortion. But somehow people made them work and even made them look completely achievable. Which was impressive for a piece of trash like him.

A quick yawn escaped his mouth as the pair went back to jaguar that was waiting patiently to be driven. The rain started to lazily fall from the sky when the pair got into the vehicle. With a roar the vehicle came to life, the radio coming on mid song, it sounded Western. Once they pulled onto the freeway, passing the place where the accident had occurred a few hours ago heading in the direction of home. Both his and Ulquiorra's phone went off at the same time.

"It's an email from Halibel, apparently you qualified for Hueco Mundo," said Ulquiorra as he scrolled through the group message.

Hueco Mundo was an underground cage-fighting event that happened every year at around this time. Though it was underground it was almost as big as UFC in the west. Big sponsors pay big bucks for the fighters to compete, and the champion usually wins the title and a big wad of cash. Last years match was massive as it was Baraggan and old man Yamamoto's final fight. Yamamoto had taken the belt and the title of undefeated upon doing a joint retirement with his archrival.

The event brought in thousands of people and with it required certain flair. Since Hueco Mundo prided itself on everything local they would bring in local acts and entertainment to appease the masses before the fights. Last year it had been a lot of performance art, so hopefully this year it will be something different.

"They are pre-releasing the list of performers before hand as well," Ulquiorra droned as he shut his cell off and slid it back into his pocket.

"Exciting."

"This only means that Halibel is going to be training your ass ten times harder from now on you know that."

"Fuck…"

The rest of the drive was spent in silence with only the radio giving off any sound of life. Some of the songs from earlier were starting to repeat, a pale hand from the passenger side flipped the switch and changed the radio station. After about three different tries all failures he shut off the radio allowing the sound of pelting rain to replace the stillness. It was comfortable.

Grimmjow stopped in front of Ulquiorra's apartment complex; the rain wasn't as bad on this side of Tokyo, "see you tomorrow. Want me to grab us coffee?"

"Sure."

With that Ulquiorra closed the door. Fifteen minutes into driving Grimmjow's phone began to buzz. A phone call at this hour? He answered it without looking at the name, a feminine voice continued on the other end.

"Sorry for calling so late," she begun, her voice smooth and flowing effortlessly. She didn't wait for Grimmjow to respond as she continued, "I need to talk to you about something tomorrow, its important."

 _Do you feel like a young God?_

"Does it have something to do with me?" pulling up to a red light he waited for the colour to change, just as he was waiting for an answer on the other end. The light changed to green before she spoke.

"Not directly…I just," she started before she cut herself off, "I just need someone to talk to."

"What about Star—"

"No. He can't know," she spoke cutting him off, "at least not right now."

"Alright, but not before training. After. We'll head to Benehime's for a drink," Benehime's was a local bar that was inspired by North American and European cabaret. Live performances were almost strictly in English with a few Japanese songs slipping in through the cracks. Many foreigners who did business in Tokyo loved going to Benehime's , a slice of familiarity. It had been _their_ favourite spot.

A weak laugh came from the other end, "just like old times?"

"No, not like old times." The other end of the phone went quiet, as she had hung up. _Not like old times_.

* * *

Rukia's body lay beside him in the bed; she usually slept topless whenever they were together. Though it wasn't like Ichigo wasn't going to attempt anything, the pair had long since established a platonic friendship. It was healthy and safe for both of them. Ichigo looked at his phone screen, _4:32am…shit_ , he had barely slept a wink once he and Rukia had gotten back. Though the bar usually closed at three in the morning and it took less then twenty minutes to get back to his place from the train.

It was probably the drugs. He always had a hard time falling asleep after doing the heavy stuff. Add on the disk jockey's sleep cycle and sleep was not in his favour. So he sat on his windowsill and looked down at the streets of Tokyo. He lived on one of the quieter streets of the city, nothing much went on around here. There were still many twenty-four hour eateries and businesses on the streets due to an ambulance base and fire station being located along the street.

 _Can you forgive my sad song?_

Rukia stirred in her sleep, she'd be awake in a few minutes to catch the five thirty train to Nagaya. She had explained why she was going there but he couldn't for the life of him remember the reason. When the time came she awoke, thanked Ichigo for letting her crash at his place, grabbed her suitcase and other belongings she had previously brought over, and left. Once she was out the door Ichigo was left with the still quiet. The sun was beginning to shine through the horizon possibly signifying a rainless day.

Ichigo curled back into his bed, his eyes having a hard time keeping themselves open. As he lay in bed he realized that he was starting to miss Rukia. Not her in general, but just another presences. The sheets were still warm from where she lay and her pillow smelled faintly of the cologne she always wore. Now that she was gone, Ichigo realized how lonely he truly was.

Loneliness is one of the most atrocious things in the world, and he was being consumed by it. Sleep took him in its grasps as he dreamed about cheering crowds and running in golden barley fields. In his dreams he wasn't alone; there was another, always someone else, looking at him with a penetrating stare.

 _He is heaven and hell. The light at the end of the tunnel? That's just the sun in our eyes. I want to go to heaven, but we are only human tonight. He whispers to me "do you feel like my young God?"_

 _I lean closer to him; we are engulfed in water, water everywhere, origami cranes float above us. His eyes can see me but they are blind. I can hear his song but I am deaf._


	2. Chapter 2

_I thought this story would be done in four chapters when i had first planned it out. Boy was I wrong, enjoy ~_

* * *

Chapter 2

 _In these brief moments, we look to the sky for answers_

* * *

 _I lean closer to him; we are engulfed in water, water everywhere, origami cranes float above us. His eyes can see me but they are blind. I can hear his song but I am deaf._

 _His touch is warm; his touch is cold, its never ending and consuming me. The skyscrapers are horizontal as we stand on plate glass windows. A forgotten city or a distorted reality? It doesn't make sense._

 _Tires are screeching. His eyes are looking at me but they are blind. I am listening to him but I am deaf. Origami cranes are falling from the heavens._

Brown eyes shot open as a gasp for air forces Ichigo's body to sit up right, hand going to his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart and soothe his oxygen starved lungs. His blanket and comforter feel damp from sweat as his boxers cling to his body unpleasantly. The other hand goes up to wipe the dampness that is around his eyes, it's uncomfortable how his perspiration is stinging his brown eyes ever so slightly. Rubbing the palm of his hand on the bed sheet, he reaches for his phone, which is sitting ever so precariously on the edge of his nightstand.

 _4:32am…shit_. This is the second time he's woken himself up at precisely this hour. With a slight sigh he turns his head to look out his window, the sun not even showing itself at this time. Clouds have gathered over Tokyo, looks like it's going to be another rainy day, just like yesterday and the fucking day before that. Ichigo had nothing personally against the rain in fact he semi enjoyed it. But the sun hadn't shown in close to a week and whenever he got off of work the air was always cold and the streets wet.

Slipping out of bed, his feet making contact with the cold hardwood floor sending a small shiver up his legs, he stripped himself of his drenched boxers sliding into a new pair that he picked randomly from his dresser. Walking back to his bed he grabbed his pillow and ripped off the duvet heading out of his small bedroom into his joint living and dining area. Throwing himself onto the couch he pulled the duvet over his body and nuzzled his face into the pillow, there was relief at the cool leather against his skin.

It was hard enough for Ichigo to get a decent amount of sleep with the demanding hours of his profession. Though he only worked three days out of the week as a DJ he also had a second job that was possibly even more demanding. His sleeping habits had already been screwed before he moved to Tokyo but now he had fallen into a vicious cycle of too much sleep and sleep deprivation. Curling in slightly more he turns so his face is planted into the back of the couch. It took his body a while to settle itself back down and return to its state of REM, it was as though he was subconsciously afraid of this reoccurring dream.

 _Origami cranes are falling from the heavens_.

Though calling it a dream was giving it too much dew credit as it violently awoke him in the same manner each time; loss of breath, cold sweat, and slightly irritable. It had become more of a nightmare – always repeating – but tonight it had given him a new piece of the puzzle. A sideways city that looked so familiar and the sound of screeching tires – though that noise was normal in any given big city in Japan. What probably bothered Ichigo the most about the whole _thing_ was how still everything was.

He could handle the slight distortion and the trivial inversion of some colours as most of his dreams were like that. But the stillness was what bothered him. He had noticed it when the cranes were floating above him, they were moving so slowly as though there was no current and only the wind was forcing them to budge. It was like they were being forced from a place they had been nailed down to. When they began to fall he had noticed the same thing; it was as though he were watching a slow-motion film scene.

When sleep did again find him, his dreams remained black. Beside the odd muscle spasm his slumber was undisturbed and relatively peaceful. Ichigo was awoken for the second time by a violent muscle spasm; it had felt as though he were falling. Grabbing his cell the small white numbers read _11:54am_. Though his mind still felt tired his body was urging him to get up and get on with the day; primarily it wanted food.

With an annoyed puff of air leaving his mouth he kicked the duvet off of him and onto the ground compelling himself to follow suite. After some self-convincing – mostly his stomach angrily growling – he got his ass off of the couch. Walking into his small kitchenette – it wasn't anything special and came with all the essentials – he grabbed a bowl and cereal from one of the cupboards, a spoon from a drawer beside his stove, and almond milk from the fridge he walked back to the couch.

Pouring the small pieces of wheat into the bowl – they looked and tasted like _Honey Nut Cheerio's_ but were from a no-name brand…O's something…he had saved a dollar on them rather than buying the name brand stuff, hurray. It took him longer to eat the cereal than he had expected, as he was more interested in chasing the little Os around the milk near the end. Soggy cereal wasn't his favourite thing. Drinking the milk from the bowl he got up and placed the dishes in the dishwasher.

Grabbing the duvet that still lay on the cold floor and the pillow Ichigo walked his sorry ass back to his room, throwing both on his bed and taking his boxers of and flinging them into his laundry hamper. Next was a shower, which he took his time in, enjoying how the hot water cascaded down the expanse of his skin. He closed his eyes beginning to hum a song that had been stuck in his head for the past day, for the life of him he couldn't remember what the name of it was or the lyrics for that matter. It had a simple melody, it was annoying.

Getting out of the shower was torture, the steam in the room making it a little hard to see. Wrapping the towel around his waist he headed back into his room where he slipped on a pair of black skinnies, a worn leather belt, and a wide neck grey graphic t-shirt with a picture of a poorly drawn octopus _Aristotle the Octopus_ written underneath it. Making his way back to the living room he crashed on the sofa regretting that he even got up.

He sat in silence for several minutes deciding what to do next, grabbing his Mac to play some soft music in the background while his brain raked for something to do. He settled on a random playlist that was labelled _Just Chillin' Killin'_. The music began to play as three soft knocks on his door made the orange haired man stand up and place his Mac down. Unlocking the dead bolt and pulling open the door he was greeted by an old woman with an extraordinarily long nose, grey hair that looked like a saucer, and deep brown eyes that rarely opened; the old woman's entire body shaking. His landlord.

Ichigo wasn't sure how old she was, she literally looked like a used old tea bag that had been forgotten at the bottom of the sink for three months. This had earned her the nickname Baba Yaga after the deformed and malicious looking old woman in Russian folklore. All she was missing was her mortar and pestle.

His younger sister Karin had gone to Vladivostok on a school trip – she had told him that it was a shit hole, though she thought everywhere was a shit hole – and had brought back a book about Slavic Folklore. The book was in Russian so no one could read it, though Ichigo remembered looking at a picture of an old woman. When they had looked it up online the result had said Baba Yaga, so the frail woman had gotten the title.

However what had drawn a quizzical look on Ichigo's face was the old boxer that sat patiently beside her. The dog was old, white circles had grown around its face and its beautiful brindle coat had somehow lost a lot of its lustre. It even sounded old when it exhaled. Ichigo didn't know much about boxers however he did no that they were hyper as fuck, and this one seemed pretty tame. The dog looked up at Ichigo a perplexed look on its face that probably mirrored Ichigo's, snorting at him it returned to looking forward.

"Kurosaki-san, thank god you are here I have a huge favour to ask you," Baba Yaga spoke, a thick Chinese accent and a voice that sounded like it had been burnt by magma made Ichigo jump a bit, "I'm sorry to bother you."

"No it's all good," Ichigo responded looking back at the woman. It was rare for Baba Yaga to pay him a visit unless it's about rent, "is this about my rent payment? Cause I paid it ahead this time."

"No, no. This has nothing to do with that," she croaked.

"Uhmmm okay, I'm listening," crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe.

"Will you take this dog?" she asked handing the leash over to Ichigo who simply looked at the hand.

His face must have made an outlandish look as the dog looked up at Ichigo, giving a breath that sounded fairly laboured. Baba Yaga moved her hand as though she were expecting the man to jump at the request, doesn't everyone like dogs? Probably. Except Ichigo didn't really understand them. He liked looking at them from a distance and petting one if it got close enough, but he just felt unmoved towards them. Though this old dog with its scrunched up face looked as though it were just as indifferent to Ichigo as he to it.

"No."

"What! Common everyone likes dogs!" Baba Yaga looked dumbfounded and as though she had been cheated. How strange, "please? Take care of this dog for an old woman?"

"Sorry I can't, with my work schedule and my income I can barely take care of myself. Let alone some old dog who looks like its barely holding on," said Ichigo.

The dog must have known it was being talked about as it looked from the old woman back to Ichigo. A snort and an oddly human expression crossing its canine face that could only mean one thing, _well fuck you to strawberry_.

Stunned and somewhat confused Ichigo returned his attention back to the old woman, "please Ichigo you are my last hope! You are this dog's last hope!"

 _The fuck he is_.

"Look I've already asked all of the tenants if they could look after him for me but they all turned me down. I'm an old woman I can't look after this dumb old mutt and an entire apartment complex."

 _Well honey you aren't such a looker yourself._ Was Ichigo giving the dog an internal dialogue?

"I'm sorry but I can't."

"Please! It's the old man's dog who lived two doors down from you. He died two weeks ago from that collision on the highway," guilt tripping now? She really was Baba Yaga, though Ichigo wasn't going to fall for it. He barely remembered ever seeing the old man, he must have been here longer than Ichigo, "all he asked was that someone look after the dog if he passed. It won't last long anyways, it has some kind of cancer."

 _Neither will you, you hag_. Two snorts leaving the dog as he looked at Ichigo.

"I'm sorry I just can't. I wish you luck and do try and have a good day," Ichigo said more to the dog than the old desperate woman, the dog looking like it didn't care much where it went so long as it could lie down. Ichigo was about to close the door when an immeasurable strength stopped him.

Ichigo looked to see that Baba Yaga had managed to stop the door with one hand. Ichigo and the dog's eyes widened a fraction at the sheer strength of the old tea bag of a woman. Her closed eyes suddenly opened giving Ichigo a shrill feeling down his spine, the look of determination replaced with a look of threat, "I'll cut your rent in half and have the other tenants buy your dog food for as long as you need it."

What had just happened?

"The dog's owner was a good man and he deserved to have his final wishes met. You are a good person Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo looked down at the dog whose face had returned to being impassive. She had sold him as soon as she had said she was going to cut his rent in half but he didn't want to play it off as though that were the deal sealer. He wanted to come out of this looking like the better man. The dog looked back up at Ichigo, it could tell that he was full of shit. With a sigh and a small chuckle Ichigo grabbed the leash from the still outstretched hand.

"What's its name?"

"I have no idea."

Baba Yaga walked away satisfied with having gotten rid of the canine. Though she was probably annoyed that now she was losing some money. Ichigo could tell that she was the gambling kind of gal in her youth. She leisurely walked away at a pace that made a snail look like an Olympic runner. Tugging a bit at the collar the boxer reluctantly sauntered into Ichigo's apartment, his new home. Giving it a quick once over the dog strolled to the leather couch on old legs.

Ichigo followed the dog over to his couch where the dog had managed to climb up and had taken claim on the right corner; he took of its leash, which was received by a satisfied grunt. Sitting beside the animal he pushed the space bar on his Mac stopping the music, it had gone from an all right playlist to a God-awful one in a matter of three songs. Now what?

"If I were an old man who I never met, what would I name my dog?" Ichigo asked himself scratching his chin. The boxer simply twitched his eyes; he should start with some of the popular ones, "Daiki?"

Nothing.

"Ryuu?" the dog licked its nose making a wet sound with his mouth, "Takao? Kaito? Jun?"

Nothing again.

"Maybe he named you after a fighter? Aren't you a boxer…?" Ichigo asked as though he were expecting the dog to answer him. This was why he didn't approve of animals; they didn't talk back in human talk. "Harada?"

Nothing.

"Yoshio? Hiroyuki Ebihara?" Ichigo scratched the back of his head; those were the only fighters that he could remember his dad talking about when he was a kid. Maybe he needed to go a little more international, "Bruce Lee?"

A yawn that made the dog give a whining noise was all that Ichigo got. _For fuck sakes_. Grabbing his Mac he quickly Google'd the worlds famous boxer names.

"Muhammad Ali? Sugar Ray? Joe Louis?" all these names were again met with nothing. Not even a whimper. The dog must have caught on to what was going on as it shifted its head to look at Ichigo, its floppy ears going up as it looked at the man like he was wasting his time.

"Rocky?"

 _Snort_.

"Jackie Chan?"

 _Two snorts and a laboured inhale_.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Ichigo felt defeat as he rubbed his face, running out of names that involved fighters of any sort. His extent to action was quite limited if that, one last shot before he gave up, "Mayweather—?"

 _Deep growl_.

Well that answered that question. The dog returned to eyeing at the door aimlessly looking defeated as though it were expecting Ichigo to guess his name. Ichigo didn't know what to do with himself now, he had no idea how to take care of this dog, fuck he didn't even know its name, "I don't think you like me all that much."

The dog placed one of his paws on Ichigo's lap as though it actually understood what the man had just said. _Snort_. The man gave a small smile at this little act of kindness that the dog had no idea of. Tentatively he outstretched his hand, fingers touching the coarse short hair scratching the back of the dogs ears which was thanked by a deep relaxed snort. The dog's eyes closed as it fell into a sombre sleep, snoring like the old fool it was.

* * *

There was sweat and pain. That was how Halibel's training always had been. When they had first started Grimmjow swore he would have needed to go to a hospital after every second exercise. She was brutal but she knew what she was doing. His muscles soon began to adapt and respond better, faster, and with more power whenever he was in the cage. Opponents who he had trouble with in the beginning stood no chance for Grimmjow now that Halibel was putting him through the works everyday of his life.

The gym that they were at was a hole-in-the-wall type of place, but it had been good to them. It offered everything they needed – weight and cardio area, punching bags that hung from the tin roof, a small boxing ring, and showers that one could actually eat off of – so they had stuck with it even when the cash started rolling in. Grimmjow himself had even given the owner a few extra Yen to spruce up the place and bring in new equipment.

How the money system worked for cage matches – and how Grimmjow got paid – in the underground Japan circuit was fairly complicated. Many of the fighters didn't understand how the economics worked, these fighters were what Grimmjow had come to learn as being incredibly greedy. It was straightforward; anyone coming to watch the fights needed to place a bet minimum of a thousand yen on a fighter, and since every cage watch was always packed: the zeros would sometimes shoot through the roof.

The division of the shares was usually where a lot of the fighters got pissy. It was agreed upon that sixty percent of all the bets would go to the host arena. The winner of the fight would get twenty percent of the total bets, the loser getting ten percent, and the bettors would walk away with some additional money from the remaining ten percent.

The problem came from the losers who thought they should at least receive an extra ten percent for lending their bodies for 'entertainment' value. However this was never vocalized as any fighter who was heard trying to extort more money would find themselves rejected from many of the hosting arenas. Cage fighting wasn't exactly one hundred percent legal; placing stakes on humans was generally frowned upon when they were beating each other black and blue. Yet the cops did not interfere – many actually getting in on the waging when they could – except offering to play extra security as cage matches had grown to be almost as popular as baseball in Tokyo alone.

Since much of the cage fights were kept under the 'books' so to say, many corporate sponsors were unable to get in on the action unless if it were a large event that could be broadcasted. Hueco Mundo was just that: an opportunity. Sponsors poured millions of American dollars just to get their name shown for a brief second. This had allowed Hueco Mundo to become a neo-festival and allow for local talents to gain notoriety. Nonetheless money division stayed the same as any regular fight, except the paycheck was so much sweeter.

Grimmjow didn't think of the money, as the jump rope was a blur to his vision, relying on the weak clicking noise the rope made when it hit the floor to tell him went to jump. He had been doing this for the past hour and his lungs were starting to feel like they'd been sliced by razorblades. No Grimmjow did it for the absolute rush of adrenaline that each fight had given him. He was good at fighting. Had to be with his hair colour – in fact many of the cage fighters had animated hair colour, common theme – he had had a target on his back right from the get-go.

"Enough," a sharp female voice cut his speed jumping, the plastic rope slapping his leg as it came to a stop. Halibel had her left hand extended and white tape in her other hand, "time to work on your attack. Take a fifteen to wrap yourself up."

Grimmjow only grunted as he exchanged the rope for the white tape. Grabbing his water he drank like a glutton at an all-you-can-eat buffet, the clear liquid instantly cooling his strained muscles. With heavy breaths Grimmjow sat down at a bench and began to wrap his right hand making sure to cover every part of his appendage. The last thing he needed was to break a knuckle, again. He then repeated with his opposite hand and his feet, breaking a toe was almost as fun as breaking a knuckle.

Another quick swig from his water bottle before he sauntered over to one of the hanging punching bags; that had definitely seen better days. Grey duct had covered many holes that had been inflicted upon the thing – Grimmjow being the culprit for countless new punching bags. When he heard Halibel say go he unleashed a powerful punch, which made the bag sway, the blue haired man tore into the thing as it swung back like a pendulum. _Jab, jab, kick, parry, kick, jab, side hook, flank, uppercut, jab, jab, kick_ repeat.

Grimmjow completely lost track of time, as all of his focus was on the hanging sack, he had been on the thing for close to an hour and a half before Halibel told him to take a twenty-minute break. With one final punch his arm completely stiffened muscles pleading for an interruption before they gave out. His entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, blue locks sticking to his forehead, leaning forward as he begun to gasp for air. His head hurt and his hands had started to bleed regardless of how much tape he had put on.

Walking over to the bench he slowly took off the white rap, his arms trembling when they were freed from their binding. He winced when he pulled the sticky strip of his split pieces of skin. He repeated this with his other hand, opening and closing them to stretch out the tensed muscles. Halibel joined him, grabbing his hands to inspect the damage. A disappointed _tsk_ noise coming from her mouth – he had pushed himself too hard again.

"I'll get Ulqui to take a quick look once he comes in," she casually spoke, dropping his hands as she stood and went to grab some more water. She came back with two cups and an energy bar, which she threw at Grimmjow, "eat."

Not needing to be told twice he unwrapped the packaging and took a large mouthful of the bar practically finishing it in one bite – chocolate, his favourite. As he chewed his eyes wandered to the blonde that was sitting beside him. Her legs crossed as she wore a simple pair of leggings and a training tank top, her boobs threatening to pop-out. Her expression neutral as she sipped the water every few minutes, something was clearly on her mind.

"I'm sorry that we haven't had time to speak, the past two weeks have been hectic," Halibel broke the silence her eyes lazily drifting over to Grimmjow.

Swallowing the chocolate flavoured bar averting his eyes down to the wrapper as he pulled it back to reveal more of the food. He had almost forgotten about when she had called him, it seemed as though it were months ago, " _mah_ , don't worry about it. To be honest I had forgotten that you even called."

"Figures," the woman chuckled, a smile lighting up her features beautifully. It was these brief instances when Halibel looked like no other. Generally she looked as though she were constantly carrying the world upon her shoulders, so smiling had been few and far between. But when Grimmjow did see her like this…he thought that this was what he could have fallen in love with. Except he never could and never would fall in love with her.

"What was it that you wanted to talk about?" Grimmjow asked as he shovelled the rest of the bar into his mouth. Tossing the package over his shoulder it landed in the overflowing garbage can filled with plastic cups.

"Uhmm…" Halibel had begun, obnoxious chatter cutting her off as she looked over her shoulder to see Ulquiorra holding Orihime's hand, the girl going off on one of her tangents. Ulquiorra's face as expressionless as ever though still taking in every word that came out of Orihime's mouth, "we'll talk about this later."

"Fine."

When the couple got to them Ulquiorra broke his gaze, his hawk like eyes instantly going to Grimmjow's leaking knuckles. The scowl on the man's face broadening as he drew his eyes up to Grimmjow. Orihime's smile was the complete opposite as her ever-cheery attitude made Grimmjow want to throw up; his body was just far too sore for this shit.

"Good afternoon Halibel-san, Grimmjow-kun!" a sharp shudder running up Grimmjow's spine at how she said his name. He loved her to pieces but when he was like this, the whole world could just fuck off and die for all he cared.

"Hello Orihime-san, its so good to see you again," said Halibel, "how long are you in Tokyo for?"

"Well you see Halibel-san I'm not to sure. I sort of just surprised Ulquiorra yesterday by showing up on his doorstep. He was all _what are you doing here_? So I told him that I had taken a few days off from the lab and my school work was lighter than usual so I decided to come and see him," Orihime always made Ulquiorra sound like a twisted demon with a child's voice whenever she imitated him, it always made Grimmjow laugh, "so to answer your question: I have no idea."

Orihime was a beautiful girl with long auburn hair and big brown eyes. She always had two turquoise flower hairpins on either side of her face to keep her hair out of her face. She was a curvaceous woman with big breasts and a thin waist. Her attitude was always chipper, the woman didn't have a mean bone in her body. From what Grimmjow knew she hadn't exactly had the best life – her parents both passing away young and her brother as well, orphaned and living alone – but somehow she had managed to get herself into med school. Inspirational.

"Left," spoke Ulquiorra for the first time as he had gotten the med kit already, holding his hand out.

"Owww! You fucking cocksucker!" Grimmjow cursed, as the cotton ball that Ulquiorra was currently pushing against his wounds was soaked in antiseptic. It stung like a motherfucker.

"Right."

Grimmjow returned his attention back to Orihime's conversation distracting him from Ulquiorra's sadistic treatment; he was enjoying it a little too much. Halibel had gotten onto the topic of what exactly the young woman was studying in school, "well my doctoral is going to be on gastric bypass surgeries. I want to work with individuals who have a hard time eating and pooping, since those are the two things that make people the happiest in the world."

Grimmjow snickered a bit at how Orihime said pooping. Childish? Completely. The woman continued her enthusiastic explanation of pooping and diet regulations. From what Ulquiorra had told him, his girlfriend was one of the worst cooks in the world. Everything turned out edible but the combinations just shouldn't have ever been brought together; who likes bananas marinated in tomato paste? Though the raven-haired man always endured it for her; never putting down her creations no matter how much he hated leeks. Love, it's disgusting.

"Oh that reminds me! Ulqui and I are going to Benehime's tonight and we wanted to know if the two of you would join?"

"Of course we would," Halibel answered for the both of them. Grimmjow gave her a sideways scowl for making a decision on his behalf. Though this could probably give them time to talk if that's what she wanted to do. Whatever, he didn't have any plans anyways and Benehime's always had the best scotch in all of Tokyo.

"You don't mind?" asked Ulquiorra looking directly at Grimmjow.

"Got nothing better to do," Grimmjow answered honestly, his voice sounding as nonchalant as possible.

"Oh great!" the enthusiasm of Orihime's voice only slightly aggravating Grimmjow, "I almost forgot! Halibel-san the invitation is extended to Starrk as well."

"Thank you, but sadly he is in Yokohama on business for the next week so he won't be able to come. I appreciate the offer though," spoke Halibel in a mother like tone that reassured Orihime that she was grateful of the proposal.

"Next time?"

"Next time."

Grimmjow sighed as his plans for tonight had become official. At least the eyesore that is Starrk wasn't going to be around. It's not that he disliked the guy – he treated his trainer like a goddess – he just didn't like anyone in general. Though he hoped that things wouldn't be awkward as he and Halibel returned to _their_ spot. The place were he could have easily fallen in love with her, but didn't.

* * *

Ichigo yawned slightly as he got off the train at downtown Shibuya station, a small pull to the leash he was holding making the old boxer tread steadily, its nails making clicking noises against the plaster floor. They walked out of the station at a leisure pace, as the old dog didn't enjoy going very fast, it probably hurt its ligaments. Ichigo didn't mind, he had thought of this before hand so they had left slightly earlier for work. Though explaining why he brought his new dog to work with him was going to be a bit of a bitch.

He didn't want to leave the creature alone – regardless of how docile it was – the dog looked so depressed that it started to make Ichigo feel a little down in the dumps. Though he had only had the dog for two days they got a long fairly well. The dog was well trained and ate what was given to him. The dog was also better company than most, it also seemed to have an appreciation for Bruce Springsteen as Ichigo had discovered on accident when he was playing one of his old vinyl records. At least that's what he thought.

One of Ichigo's neighbours had brought over some dog food a few hours after Baba Yaga had dropped off the dog two days ago, if he was correct the man's name was Kira. Blonde hair that was oddly styled and a pretty boy face the man instantly irritated Ichigo. He was some kind of vet so dog food was practically free for him, why he couldn't take in the dog than Ichigo did not bother to ask. He accepted the food with thanks and shut the door on the man's face before the guy tried to make more uncomfortable small talk. The man had a self-righteous air about him that even made the dog quietly growl from his seat on the couch.

They walked at a slow speed simply enjoying that it hadn't started raining on them. The dog was good company; it was better company than no company at all. It didn't seemed bothered by much though Ichigo had given up on trying to guess the dog's name instead calling him Inu. The dog seemed okay with this so in the end it all worked out.

They rounded the corner and took a few side streets to keep away from the busy traffic of the main roads of Shibuya – Ichigo had noticed that Inu got slightly nervous around large groups of people. When they rounded the last corner they came upon the business district, which had quieted down since the seven o'clock rush. Ichigo pushed open the doors to the bar that had a bright pink neon sign which read _Benehime's_. Walking in he waved to some of his co-workers who were setting up the tables for the night, all giving him a strange look when they noticed Inu who simply just snorted at them.

Benehime's was one of the most unique places in all of Tokyo in Ichigo's opinion. The owner – Urahara Kisuke, possibly the strangest man he'd ever meet – had spent much of his life traveling Western Europe and North America. When he came back to Japan he constructed a bar that had been inspired by the many, _many_ , cabaret bars that he had seen while on his journey. The bar had been geared towards tourists from these foreign lands where a dinner and a show would be put on every weekend. Most of the music that was performed live was in English and only on the occasion would some Japanese and French be sung.

The inside of the bar was quite spacious, much of the room dedicated to the small two to four seater tables and booths angled at a stage where a black grand piano and a sixties styled microphone lay. Red curtains drawn shut until performance time where the rest of the band hid. The back of the room was were the kitchen and bar were, hidden as to not distract any of the paying customers from the show. Ichigo passed the small tables that all held red cloths, a small candle, and fresh picked flowers; today it was white lilies. When he came to a stop in front of the bar a woman with two braids in her hair that ended in gold loops was organizing bottles of foreign liquors. Her backless top revealing an odd tribal flower tattoo, her lower body in black pants that ended on black pumps.

She turned around promptly holding a bottle of Grey Goose vodka in one hand, Patron tequila in the other. She gave a pleasant look at Ichigo before noticing Inu making her raise an eyebrow. Soifon was an assassin when it came to being behind the counter. She mixed, shook, and served all in a blur while still maintaining complete composure of her body.

"Kurosaki, what's with the dog?" Soifon asked as she walked around the counter. She knelt in front of Inu holding a palm out which the dog sniffed, her hands then began to scratch his chest, an old leg starting to kick in pure pleasure.

Ichigo looked down at Inu who was in a state of nirvana as his leg kicked frantically, "long story short: his master was in the collision on the highway a few weeks back and now I have a dog."

"What's his name," she seemed satisfied with that answer now using both hands to scratch behind its ears. Inu responded to this by trying to lick her face.

"Not sure? Nobody knows, I've been calling him Inu," Ichigo began the dog snorting in content as he managed to peg Soifon in the nose.

She instantly stopped petting the dog and looked up at Ichigo, the same eyebrow going up in complete disbelief, "you nicknamed the dog, _dog_?"

"He seems cool with it."

Ichigo sat down at a bar stool as Soifon returned behind the bar, hurriedly washing her hands. In a swift motion that looked like ballet she grabbed a bottle of a blue liquor that smelt of raspberry and the Grey Goose she had been holding, pouring the two into a glass and giving it to Ichigo. Tentatively he sniffed the glass, pure and pristine; only the best was served at Benehime's, "is Tessai-san around?"

"No he took the day off to attend to some personal business," Soifon said as she poured herself a glass, giving a cheers to each other they both downed the liquid, it was smooth and flavourless. She took both glasses and placed them in the steamer before grabbing a cloth and wiping down a small circle of condensation, "Ururu is working lights tonight and she's in the back. I don't think she minds animals."

"Thanks Soifon," Ichigo got up, Inu walking beside him as they entered into the sound room where a shy high schooler was busily looking over tonight's schedule.

Big Bambi grey eyes looked at Ichigo as a sullen air on the young girl's face turned into surprise at seeing the orange haired man and the dog. How Kisuke was able to get away with hiring high school students to work late hours, he had no idea. The pay must have been just as good for them as it was for Ichigo.

"Hello Kurosaki-san can I help you with something?" her voice timid as her droopy eyes filled with curiosity at the dog to his side.

"Would you be able to look after him until close?" Ichigo asked as he handed the girl the leash. She didn't question him like Soifon, simply accepting the dog. He watched as she took off the leash, Inu walking to lie beneath her chair.

"Sure, what's his name?"

"Inu."

"Inu?"

"Yup, Inu."

"Okay, make sure you wash your hands with soap before you serve anyone tonight. Good luck," she simply said as she returned her attention back to the light controls. Inu snorted in satisfaction; licking his nose as he closed his eyes, Ururu's calming personality making him sleepy as his tired bones ached from the stroll.

Ichigo left the two to their doing as he sauntered to the staff room to get changed into his work uniform. Opening his locker he looked at himself in the small mirror that was stuck to the metal door. With some wax he swooped his hair back giving it a wet look, some pieces falling in his face. Taking off his _Aristotle the Octopus_ t-shirt – that he'd worn it twice this week – he put on a plain white slime dress shirt. His brown chinos were replaced with slimming black ones as he tucked his shirt into his waist. Wrapping the black belt around he took the blood red tie that hung on a hook and tied it with complete ease. The last piece of clothing was a black dress vest with the smallest gold stripes running down vertically. The final touch were simply black dress shoes, making the outfit complete.

He walked back out to the bar where Soifon was doing another quick shot with a man who was the inversed mirror image of Ichigo. Shirosaki Ogichi – they even had similar names – or simply Shiro was a strange looking man with pale skin, white hair, and ember eyes that consumed a person with a quick gaze. The man was borderline insane, which he took out on the grand piano with a meticulous ability that did not suite his persona. When he reached the bar again he tied a black apron around his waist and grabbed a circular serving tray.

"Five minutes people," shouted another high school student who was dressed similarly as everyone else, minus the dress vest. The host of the restaurant; it was his job to send out warnings to the staff to get their shit together.

Soifon poured three shots of the same drink that she had given to Ichigo. The lights dimmed as all three of them brought the shot up and with a small cheers they, knocked it back, she spoke more to herself as she grabbed the shot glasses and put them in the steamer, "let's give them hell."

"And hell we will!" Shiro cackled as the first customers poured in, Jinta showing them to their spots.

The rest of the night was pretty dull as the amount of customers embedded and flowed, always between busy and slightly less busy. It kept Ichigo preoccupied as he took orders in Japanese, English, and the occasional German that he could muster. He had taken a course in high school to help him learn a third language, German had been his choice and he had regretted it. Occasionally getting a brief chat in with Shiro and Soifon as he went back and forth from the bar and sometimes the kitchen for appetizers, though no one came to Benehime's for the appetizers.

It was nearing the time of the performance when the cabaret bar began to get eventful. Though tonight it was a relaxed busy and not so demanding as he was given more Japanese speaking tables than regular. After receiving a big tip from an older gentleman and his wife, Ichigo was shocked to see a familiar face that came with painfully loud noise that cut over the soft jazz music that was playing in the speakers.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Ichigo barely had time to compose himself as two breasts almost tackled him to the ground in a vice grip of a hug. When he gained his wits and was able to stabilize himself he looked down to see two very distinguishable turquoise flower hairclips.

"Inoue-san?" returning the warm hug. She hadn't changed.

Inoue Orihime had been one of the few people he was sorry to say goodbye to when he left his hometown of Karakura. They had gone through the whole teenage discovery thing together. When she had told him she was going to medical school in Kyoto after he telling her he was moving to Tokyo, they had somehow dropped out of contact. They weren't those teenagers who looked up at the sky and asked about the wonders of the universe anymore.

"God it's been so long! How are you? How is your family? Is Yuzu still planning on moving to Paris for culinary school? Is Karin still a little shit?" Orihime bombarded him with a thousand questions at once, making the red head smile and laugh softly.

"Yes it has been too long. I'm good, working a lot but still good; my family is decent last I heard. Yuzu got a scholarship in Italy but is planning on transferring to Paris next year. And yes Karin is still an asshole, but she got drafted for the Japanese female soccer team," Ichigo listed off as he picked up the tray that he'd dropped during his assault.

Looking behind his old friend the rest of her party sauntered over, each as unique as the next. A gothic man with wicked green line tattoos underneath his cold gaze, a goddess of a blonde woman with the most spectacular eyelashes he had ever seen, and finally the one that stood out like the neon sign above the bar outside. Blue hair. Ichigo knew he was staring as the man approached him, "how about you and your friends all sit and I'll be back with a few drink menus."

Heading back to the bar he grabbed four drink menus waiting a few minutes so that Orihime and her new friends could get settled in. Shiro had returned to the bar with three empty glasses twirling his fingers to let Soifon know to refill everything, "wha' was that about?"

"An old friend."

"Nice tits," Ichigo and Soifon both rolling their eyes as Shiro let out a cackle at his own expense.

Returning to Orihime's table he handed the group the drink menus, "is this your first time here?"

"Well it's my first time! But I think everyone else has been here a few times," Orihime answered as she happily took the menu giving it a brief glance before speaking again, "oh! Introductions! Everyone this is one of my eldest friends from back in Karakura; Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Pleasure," Ichigo said as he gave a faint smile and a bow to the other three.

"This is my boyfriend Cifer Ulquiorra," pointing to the gothic man with sleek raven hair and the green eyes. His face screamed that he didn't want to be here and that the world was annoying him. He seemed the complete opposite for what Orihime would go for.

" _Guten Abend_ ," Ichigo spoke only guessing that the man had some German in him, this caught the man off guard as green eyes widened.

"You speak German?"

"Only slightly, I took a class back in high school and little has stuck," though the man tried to hide it, Ichigo caught the smirk on his face.

"This beautiful woman is Tia Halibel," Orihime continued pointing at the blonde beauty. Her red dress sparkled in the light as she gave an ambient feeling of a Hollywood beauty from the sixties.

" _Enchanté_ ," Ichigo bowing again.

"Do you also speak French _monsieur_?" the other woman asked a beautiful grin changing her face. She was the Japanese equivalent of Marilyn Monroe, in that moment Ichigo was sure. It took him a few moments to recover from that smile.

"Sadly that is the extent of my French _mademoiselle_ ,"

"Last but not least, the blue haired guy is JeagerjaquesGrimmjow!"

Ichigo made eye contact with the blue eyes making a small tingle go down his legs. There was a sense of awareness in Ichigo's stomach that made him want to keel over. Something about this man made him scowl for a brief second as he wracked his brain for how he knew those blue locks. It took Ichigo a little longer to address to the blue haired man whose gaze was slightly uncaring, "pleasure."

All that was returned was a simple nod as the blue eyes gazed lazily at the drink menu, uninterested in the whole scenario. Ichigo reprieved himself, "I shall give you a few minutes to decide on what you'd like."

Ichigo made his rounds to the other tables he was serving; getting refills when asked and bringing the cheques to those who had to leave. When the new customers came he got them menus, repetition. He returned to Orihime's table grabbing their menus and taking their orders. Orihime had decided on getting a raspberry martini, Ulquiorra a gin and tonic, Grimmjow a whisky on the rocks, and Halibel had asked for water. He hastily returned stating the first round was on him; he had made enough in tips tonight to cover for four drinks.

Eleven came sooner then expected as Ichigo made his round again getting refills on drinks and explaining how there will be no service during the show. Soifon was a blur as all the orders came in at once, she did not let anyone see her sweat as she slayed every order sending them out faster than they could come in. Shiro had already taken off his apron and was heading to the stage, cracking his fingers as he prepared them for the piano. Ichigo swiftly followed, he was undoing his vest buttons when he noticed Orihime give him the thumbs up – seems like she knew what was going to happen.

Behind the curtain the band had already been prepared and were idly chatting. Shiro had taken off his vest as well and was doing his little mantra; he always did this before any of his performance whether it is a concert hall or Benehime's. It had gone something along the lines of _let me fuck these people up_ if Ichigo was not mistaken. The lights dimmed behind the thick red fabric and the room was instantly hushed. Curtain being pulled back Ichigo stepped into the stage light, coming to a stop behind the old microphone. His eyes drew up as the dancers found their place in the crowd, waiting for Ichigo's voice to fill the room.

* * *

"We are in for such a treat!" spoke Orihime the excitement bubbling in her voice as she watched their waiter stand in front of the microphone.

Leaning against his palm, Grimmjow drew his eyes to their orange haired waiter who was currently waiting for his cue. There was something about that hair that set something off in Grimmjow, a memory of something blocked or forgotten. When he had made eye contact with the man he had heard something distant, it had sounded like screeching tires. It didn't sit well with him as the pit of his stomach had dropped instantly while the back of his eyes felt the haziest of dryness as though he'd been staring into a fire for too long.

He watched as several other waiters begun to pair up as a faint drum beat filled the air sounding as though it were marching. Ichigo began to hum into the microphone his voice low as a steady bass and guitar began to play the faintest of notes. The piano player began to clap every second hit of the drum; this was joined by the dancers and some of the audience all clapping in sync, Grimmjow shot Orihime a look as she joined in. A sudden pause in the music brought everyone's attention to one of the five pairs of dancers who had started to move.

" _Boys workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby…_ " the words came out in a vibrato that shook the crowd from their daze some forgetting to clap others tearing their attention away from the rest of the dancers who slowly began to move. Orihime smiled as she was brought back to her high school days hearing her friend sing again. Halibel smiled as well at just how beautiful the man's voice was, a tremble running down her spine. Ulquiorra's jaw dropped a fraction at just how immaculate Ichigo's English was, no hint of an accent as he sang the song as though it were a gospel.

Grimmjow's eyes widened as the man's voice transported him to a completely different place. His surroundings had vanished as he, the dancers, the band, and Ichigo were the only things in the room. He could see from the corner of his eyes the dancers moving, holding, lifting, and pushing each other in a contemporary dance that told the story of lovers. The whole production made Grimmjow forget to breathe as Ichigo grabbed the microphone, his eyes finally opening as he reached the chorus staring out into the crowd, staring at the blue eyes that were in complete shock.

Air was forced back into his lungs as Ichigo's voice grew in power, the octave trembling making the man sound so…human, " _when, my, time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her_ …"

The male dancers began to lift their female partners up into the air as the piano joined the other instruments creating a feeling that was so holy, so picturesque. Ichigo began the second verse the dancers deepening their story of unrequited love in its purest form. Grimmjow saw all of this but he could not take his eyes off of Ichigo. The man looked like he belonged behind the microphone, the way his hands slid up the silver pole, his eyes flickering from the back of the crowd to the lights glaring down at him, and how he would lean to his sides as though the song was draining him.

Grimmjow had never been exposed to something so…sinless. He knew violence and what it did to the body, he endured it most of his life. This shot right to his soul where it could do the most damage. It was as though it was stripping him clean of any sin he had committed.

" _And she put her love down soft and sweet. In the low lamp light I was free, heaven and hell were words to me_..." the song was coming to the end as the music picked up its tempo as the guitar and piano played a few extra notes, the dancers touching with passion.

"… _When, my, time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her_ …" the clapping returned as Ichigo hummed, his eyes moving around the crowd where they met Grimmjow's. They held for a minute but it felt like an eternity. The world came back as Ichigo closed his eyes as the music finally subsided, the final cord being played, the dancers in an embrace the gave the illusion they were kissing.

The crowd erupted in applause some like Orihime giving a standing ovation to the performers. Ichigo bowed deeply with the dancers giving a small thank you into the microphone before retreating behind the rouge curtains. When the crowd settled down the piano player began to play an immaculate tune that must have been an original piece. Grimmjow saw the shit-eating grin grow on the piano player – who oddly looked like their waiter but not – as though the man were trying to fuck up the crowd as much as possible before they called it a night. Grimmjow could respect that.

Their waiter returned with refills, as it seemed the service had picked up after the dance piece. Filling up Halibel's water Orihime was the first to speak, "that was…" though she didn't get to far as she was at a lost for words.

"Just like old times?" Ichigo finished taking the martini glass and handing her a new one, a coy smile on his lips as he looked at her sideways.

"Just like old times," she repeated the smile soft on her face with the hint of a blush on her cheeks. Cute.

"That truly was incredible Kurosaki-san," Halibel began as she thanked him for the water, "I was not expecting such a voice to come out of you."

"Thank you Halibel-san, I appreciate the praise."

"Your English was impeccable," Ulquiorra praised as he finished off his old gin and tonic accepting the new one from Ichigo.

"That was incredible," said Grimmjow as he spoke for the first time to Ichigo. It had been obvious that he had surprised the waiter as the man had held a professional face and a fake smile for most of the night. Brown eyes widened for a split second, a stray orange hair falling onto his face, "where did you learn to sing like that?"

"My – my mother had put me in classes when I was young," Ichigo replied, recovering from the mild shock. His voice betraying him as a quiver of regret seeped into his voice, a sour topic? The fake smile drew back onto his face, "please enjoy the rest of your nights, thank you for your service and your praises."

The rest of the night was spent in smooth chatter; Orihime explaining something she had read in her medical journal, Halibel occasionally joining in with a question or two, Ulquiorra remaining silent as his girlfriend was doing enough talking for the both of them, and Grimmjow sitting in the corner sporadically looking up to see orange dash beside them. _Screeching tires_ , _burning eyes_.

When everyone was finish with their drinks Grimmjow got up and paid the bill, throwing a very generous tip at their waiter. Ulquiorra and Orihime took off after saying their goodbyes, the woman asking if they could get pickled gelatos or something as equally disgusting. Thus leaving Grimmjow and Halibel alone and to the part of the night Grimmjow had desperately been trying to avoid. He just hoped to God that it wasn't something monumentally ground breaking.

"I'm pregnant," said Halibel as she attempted to wave down a cab. Grimmjow usually enjoyed the fact that Halibel was so straightforward, very similar to a sharp knife. But right now he did not appreciate this aspect of her, "Starrk and I have been trying for the past year to have one, and just a few weeks ago I had found out I was pregnant…"

Grimmjow did not say anything as he waited for the woman to continue, watching her as she successfully hailed a cab.

"I wanted to tell you because I have no one else to talk too," she whispered as the yellow cab came to a stop at her feet, splashing a puddle as its tires rolled. It had rained again.

"Does Starrk know?"

"No… I haven't told him—" she begun as Grimmjow opened the door for her, "I'm not sure how he's going to take it."

Her face was down casted and defeated as her dilemma had seriously been eating her up for too long. It was not his place to say anything negative so instead, Grimmjow said, "for what it's worth I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Grimm, that means the world."

Without another word she gave him a brief hug and stepped into the cab. The yellow car took off down the road, Grimmjow watching it until he could no longer see it. His chest felt heavy as he sat down at the curb and pulled out a cigarette. It hung in his lips as he forgot to bring a lighter with him, probably for the best though they weren't the healthiest things in the world. He did not know how long he sat on the curb in front of Benehime's – seconds, minutes, hours? They all blurred together. It wasn't until a flame caught his attention did he notice that someone was lighting his cigarette for him.

Snapping out of his daze he blinked a couple of times inhaling to light the tip of his cig. He must have been sitting there for more than a few hours as his hair was slightly damp and his shirt had a few wet spots on them. Exhaling the smoke he glanced over to see who had been the one to light him up. Blue eyes widened to see orange hair and deep brown eyes as his waiter from tonight had decided to plop a seat right beside him, an old boxer sitting down beside the man looking tired of the day.

"You look like you needed a light," said Ichigo as he looked across the street to watch a few stumbling foreigners returning to their hotels.

"Thanks, I – uhh – do you want one?" said Grimmjow as he took another breath reaching for his pack.

"Nahh I quit when I left high school," Ichigo said as he continued to follow the people across the road from them, "you know you could have waited inside? No point sitting in the rain."

"To be honest, I didn't even know I was sittin' out hear until you broke me out of my trans."

"Sorry about that," Ichigo laughed, the dog beside him giving a muffled _woof_ , "I know Orihime introduced us and everything, but I have a terrible time with names. It starts with a G…"

"Grimmjow, Jeagerjaques Grimmjow. Most people just call me Grimm though," said Grimmjow as he took another puff from the cancer stick, "Kurosaki, right?"

"Ichigo is fine, I don't usually bother with formalities outside of work."

"Ichigo," taking another breath, flicking his spent cigarette into the puddle at his feet. He turned to get a better look at the man when he noticed a pair of canine eyes look back at him with interest, "what's with the dog?"

"He's mine, but not really, I just got him. It's a complicated story," Ichigo sighed as he scratched the dog behind the ears.

"What's his name?"

"Inu."

"Inu?"

"Inu. I actually don't know his name, no one does except his old owner," Ichigo said as he had moved to scratching the dog's neck, "I'm sorry this may seem completely out of the blue but…I feel like I know you from somewhere. Did you used to come here often?"

Grimmjow looked at the man's face – searching for anything that was familiar, just one feature. Faded freckles that looked like sprinkled cinnamon over top of sun kissed skin. Hazelnut brown eyes that looked like they were constantly searching for the answers of the universe. Soft lips that parted when he was thinking and smiling, as though he were about to speak but was refraining from saying another word. All these glowing features and all that his memory and gut could come up with were screeching tires and burning eyes. Unpleasant.

"Yeah a few years ago," Grimmjow finally spoke his voice trailing off as he remembered who he used to come with.

"That must be it. With hair like yours I'm surprised that I almost forgot about you," Ichigo laughed, "I must have just started back then or something."

"Probably…"

Ichigo stood up suddenly, startling Inu who had someone lost itself in thoughts as it gave a soft grunt in protest. Grimmjow got up as well deciding that it was time to head back home. He hadn't driven tonight deciding that it was best to save money on gas, though a taxi was probably just as expensive especially for where he was going, "are you taking the train home?"

The pair walked in steady conversation at a slow pace in order for Inu to keep up, Grimmjow could tell that each step was tremendously painful for the dog. He had learned a few things about Ichigo on their walk to the station; he was a DJ part-time at Hollows a local bar that was always packed, he had dropped out of university to pursue a wave of wanderlust, he didn't really understand animals but enjoyed Inu's company, and he preferred Oreo cookies over vanilla wafers. Somewhere along the lines Grimmjow had told Ichigo about being a cage fighter.

"So you are part of the underground circuit?" the pair had gotten to downtown Shibuya station in one piece. Walking down bellow the streets they received a few second glances, however Grimmjow couldn't tell if it was because of the hair colours or the old dog.

"Yes sir."

"Will you be fighting in Hueco Mundo?"

"Not sure," answered Grimmjow as they waited on the next train, they had just missed the train on account of Inu. He didn't mind, talking to the man had calmed him down, "the preliminaries won't start for another month or so."

"Do you know who you are fighting?" Ichigo finally asked after ten minutes of comfortable silence. The train had pulled up and the pair had gotten in taking seats beside each other while Inu lay on the dirty floor.

"No I won't know until a few weeks before," Grimmjow responded honestly as he looked out the window. There wasn't much to look at except the passing lights that illuminated the tunnels as the trains sped at break neck speeds, "I do however have a fight coming up soon. You should come, it's always nice to have some support in the crowd."

The pre-recorded voice of a woman was heard overhead as she announced the next stop. Ichigo stood up and walked to the nearest door, Inu tagging along reluctantly. When the train came to a full stop and the doors opened Ichigo turned around with a smirk on his face, "maybe."

He stepped out of the train, old dog in toe. The doors closed behind him and the train took off as Grimmjow's eyes watched as orange hair disappeared from sight. By the time he got home, he had completely forgotten the reason why he had gone into shock in the first place.

After showering and stripping into sweatpants his mind began to wander on many things and nothing in particular. Stiffness grew in his lower half as he peeled off his pants, the cool air hitting his erection. Grabbing himself he began to pump, memories of his nights with Halibel slowly begun to seep in, but tonight they did not take form. Moving his hand up and down his shaft he began to pant faintly his mind going blurry as pleasure took his mind on a roller coaster.

He began to stroke himself faster his other hand running up his abdominals, swiping over his pectoral, brushing a nipple making his lower half harden a fraction. Panting as he neared completion a pair of brown eyes shot into his mind as he released a ribbon of white cum onto his abs, toes curling, and his breathing going ragged. When his vision wasn't blanketed by stars Grimmjow got up and cleaned himself. He pulled his sweat pants back on and got under the covers of his bed. The last thing he saw before sleep embraced him was a pair of brown eyes. Tonight however, Grimmjow dreamed about car accidents, screeching tires, and burning eyes.

* * *

 _Tires are screeching. His eyes are looking at me but they are blind. I am listening to him but I am deaf. Origami cranes are falling from the heavens._

 _He whispers to me "do you feel like my young God?" There is smoke; it's hard to breathe. My eyes are burning. Origami cranes are falling from the heavens, and they are on fire._

Ichigo's eyes shoot open as he gasps for air, violently. Inu stirs beside him protesting and grumpy that he was woken up, for the second night in a row like this. With a mumbled apology Ichigo turns in his bed reaching for his phone on his nightstand. _4:32_ , placing the phone back he closed his eyes bringing the blanket closer to him. Eyes as blue as the heavens starred back at him, only looking for answers, never judging.

* * *

 **I'm literally dead from writing this chapter. Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought by dropping a review :) also I am looking for a possible beta to just do a kick one over! If you are interested or know someone who is please leave me a PM.**

 **Song: Work Song (Hozier) - all rights reserved towards Hozier as an artist. Please listen to it, its actually a beautiful song.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: this chapter contains drug usage, just a warning, onward~**

* * *

Chapter 3

 _In these brief moments, we hide behind masks_

* * *

 **3 years ago**

 _Benehime's had long since cleared out, Sunday nights usually were like that; a slow rush that dissipated into a sprinkle of remaining customers drinking away the woes of the weekend. Ichigo had been wiping down a table and placing the empty glasses onto his round saucer, brainless work that had become clockwork after working there for under a year. He'd even gotten a chance to sing recently after the owner had caught him humming a tune in English. The man was a fucking freak. Who wore wooden clogs in this day and age?_

 _Heading back to the bar where the bartender took the glasses and placed them in the steamer, he didn't stay around for idle chitchat as he still had one customer to wait on. The man had unruly blue hair that shone like a neon sign in the dimly lit bar. He hadn't wanted much just a refill on his beer every once in a while. For the most part Ichigo had left the guy alone; if the customer didn't want to make conversation he wouldn't force it upon them. That was just awkward for him._

 _"Can I get a whisky on the rocks?"_

 _The bartender behind him had started around the same time as himself, they usually worked opposite shifts so he never got to see what she was made of. He was pleased to see that the woman very rarely broke a sweat or let the pressure show on her face, "coming in a sec."_

 _It literally only took a second as two glasses containing a fairly decent sized ice ball swam in brown liquid were placed on his tray, "I only needed one."_

 _"Take a break," the woman responded as she placed the whisky back on the shelf and closed the freezer, "one drink is allowed. Don't sweat it, I won't tell a soul. Our little secret."_

 _"Thanks. You sure hat and clogs won't be mad?"_

 _"That pervert? I can deal with him if he tries."_

 _A small laugh leaving his lips Ichigo left the bar and walked down to where the blue haired man was sitting, twirling the bottom of the beer in the bottle looking absolutely defeated. Approaching Ichigo saw that the man had a black eye that looked fairly fresh and the bottom left corner of his lip was split in three cuts. Domestic dispute? No possibly a fight from something previous in the day. The man was built like a brick shit house, but it wasn't overbearing which was nice._

 _"Uhhh, excuse me could ya get me—"_

 _Ichigo placed the whisky in front of the man effectively silencing him as cyan blue eyes looked at the drink quizzically. An irritated look spread onto his face as he looked up at Ichigo like he was the dumbest creature on earth, "I've been having beer all night, not that hard ta remember."_

 _Rolling his eyes Ichigo flipped the serving tray under his armpit, "I'm not stupid. I just sensed you needed a change."_

 _"Beer is fine."_

 _"Beer is for cheap laughs and the depressed."_

 _"Beer is_ _ **fine**_ _."_

 _Meeting the man's levelled gaze, Ichigo pulled out the chair across from him. Anger was replaced by confusion as blue eyes scanned around the room, disbelief on the man's face. Good, Ichigo preferred that look over annoyance, "have you ever had whisky? We get an Irish import that is smoother than any beer you'll get in all of Japan."_

 _"Okay, why whisky?"_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"Well ya could've gotten me any kind of drink, what's so special about whisky."_

 _Sitting back he twirled the brown liquid in the glass, enjoying the clink of the ice ball along the crystal glass. Why had he chosen whisky? "It's the best to drink after a fight," he pointed to the same eye that was bruised on the other man's face, "that and whisky makes you feel all warm inside."_

 _"Europeans say it's a gentleman's drink."_

 _"That's a load of shit," the blue haired man barked back as he clutched the glass in his hand looking down into the new drink._

 _"It's only what I hear," he took a closer look at the man as he mulled over the drink in front of him. If Ichigo had to place him as anything the man had the looks of a film noir actor and the veneer of a famous Western actor from the seventies. Though he may look like the type that would listen to rock everyday Ichigo got the feeling that the man preferred slow jazz or Mow town blues. Blue eyes met his own ending his train of thought as he took another sip of his drink; the man was definitely a whisky type._

 _The man took a tentative sip, a tongue darting out to lap at the remnants on his lips. Ichigo felt a jolt shoot to his stomach and a stir in his lower regions. Fuck this man looked suggestive while he drank. He had seen many people working an Benehime's and only a few looked so seductive while they would drank all the time, some put on an act of teasing the drink and their companion while they drank. A lick of the lip, a place of the glass against the mouth, and even toying with stirring straws – most people knew how to manipulate, but this man seemed blatantly unaware of it. It wasn't just any lick either; if Ichigo had been his date it would have suggested something more than just drinks for the night._

 _"I like the slight burn."_

 _"The more you drink it the more the burn turns into a tickle," averting his eyes away from the other, hiding his thoughts that would easily show on his eyes._

 _"It's sweeter than I imagined it would be," the man took another sip, "what is that flavouring?"_

 _"Maple wood possibly."_

 _"Hnn?"_

 _"Whisky will take on the flavour of the wood of the barrel its being aged in," Ichigo answered taking another sip letting the ember liquid sit in his mouth, savouring its flavour, "this whisky also has a hint of honey to it."_

 _Ichigo downed the remainder of the liquid, enjoying the soothing tingle down his throat. The man across from him copied him, shaking his head as a weak smile drew upon his face, "could I have the bill please?"_

 _"I'll be back in a minute," Ichigo placed both of the glasses on the tray and headed towards Soifon. The woman had already placed the bill in a leather checkbook, trading it for the two glasses. Glancing down at the piece of paper to make sure all was in order he went back to the expecting blue haired man._

 _The man was currently fishing out his wallet as Ichigo placed the book in front of him walking away for a moment to give the person some time to root out his money, he came back when the man stood holding the book in his hand. Blue oceans looking for Ichigo. On cue he returned and was given the checkbook, fingers lightly brushing each other, "ya didn't add the whisky?"_

 _"Its on the house," he responded as he took the book and walked back to the bar, unaware of those blue eyes watching his every move. Ichigo did not look back as the man walked out of the empty cabaret bar._

* * *

The buzzing was just loud enough to awaken him from his dreamless sleep, it had been one of those rare nights were he did not see burning paper cranes in his reveries. Without opening his eyes he reached his hand out from the blankets to grab his cellphone, exposed skin instantly getting goose bumps at the cold air of his room. Grabbing the mobile device and tapping in the four-number password, squinting a little so his eyes could adjust to the light.

Shuuhei: _Renji signed us up as a performing act for Hueco Mundo._

Even though he was still half asleep Ichigo was still conscious enough to give a scowl at the text. Fuck that. With one thumb he slowly typed back his message. Ichigo: _what the fuck_?

Shuuhei: _Exactly, he said he'd explain the next time all of us are together_.

Ichigo: _All of us?_

Shuuhei: _Supposedly he asked Ruky if she'd join too._

Shuuhei: _You still coming to the art showing tonight_?

Ichigo: _Yeah, yeah. I still need to pick out a costume though, how formal_?

Shuuhei: _Fuck if I know, I'm going as a devil_. _Anyways I'll talk to you in the AM, just got off work – dead tired_. _Sleep well Ichi_.

Tapping the home button Ichigo looked at the digital numbers to see what time it was and whether or not he had enough time to count a few sheep. It was only three in the morning, perfect. Closing his eyes he snuggled closer to the warm body beside him, which belonged to his nameless adopted dog. He had settled on calling the brindle boxer Inu, though he got the air that the dog didn't appreciate it, it was the best that he could do at the moment. He should probably try and find out its name since Inu had managed to cut his rent in half _and_ he didn't have to buy dog food with the saved money.

Some scrawny blonde neighbour of his had the unfortunate task of doing that, but the man was a vet so he practically got the food for free. The only real problem that came with Inu was the bed hogging. Ichigo could handle taking the dog out for walks and shits – he actually enjoyed going to the park with the animal – but sleep was something that was more precious than money to him since he barely got any. Not only had Inu lay claim to half the bed, the dog had the audacity to steal his body pillow. The son-of-a-bitch. The more time he spent with the dog, the more Ichigo was beginning to believe that it thought like a human. The little shit was deceptive.

It had been close to two weeks since Baba Yaga – his landlord – had given him the canine. They probably bonded though Ichigo was indifferent towards most animals so he couldn't really tell. The dog would wag its tail whenever Ichigo would come home and greet the animal, did that count for something? Inu was also pretty good company and didn't mind it when he played his music or made mixes. Of course the dog didn't do much of anything except eat, sleep, shit, and go for the occasional walk. But things had changed in Ichigo so slightly he probably didn't recognize them. The smile that grew on his face when he was greeted by Inu after a long day's work. He was still lonely but no longer as deafeningly lonely as before.

Night sky disappeared into dawn, which welcomed morning with a faint trace of sunlight and scattered white clouds in the sky. There wasn't enough sun for it to be blisteringly hot out; these were the days that Tokyo would see most of its inhabitants outside appreciating the day. Ichigo had been awoken for a second time from a dreamless sleep by a nudging nose in his lower back. When he didn't immediately acknowledge the other a paw slapped him on the face, violently awakening him.

"Jesus Christ!" said Ichigo as he instantly sat up making the blanket fall to his waist. Rubbing the side of his face, he met the culprit's eyes with a scowl. Inu had the expression of innocence on like he hadn't done anything wrong, "you know you can be a real jackass."

A slight growl as if in agreement as all that Inu gave him before hoping off the bed, one foot after the other. The dog was ancient and had some kind of cancer or disease that made its joints and bones ache all over. Ichigo would have taken Inu to the vet, but he didn't have the money for it even if he was saving a lot from his extra rent money.

A rumble came from his stomach as well giving the signal that he as well needed to start his day eventually. Kicking his legs over the edge he sauntered over to the door, opening it he let Inu scamper ahead of him, the dog's nails clicking against the floor. Slouching he marched his ass to the kitchenette where the old dog was waiting beside his two silver bowls, an expecting looking on his face. He chuckled as he picked up both dishes and filled one with dog food the other with water. Placing them down he set to work on making his own breakfast.

Opening the cupboards to search for anything edible he came to the realization that he was the laziest shit in the world. It always came to this; he'd leave doing groceries to the very last can of peas before he would go shopping again. This usually left him famished for a few days, as it would take another few days before he'd actually go shopping. He'd been surviving on granola and water for the past two days, "maybe I should just pick something up, I did promise that we'd go to the park today."

The dog didn't even bother to look up from its food, completely content with filling its belly. Ichigo patted him on the lower back just before Inu's stubby tail. Back in his room he rummaged through the fresh laundry he had just done the day before, the smell of lilacs and fresh air wafting into his nose every time he'd move even the slightest article of clothing. Taking out a white V-neck with a poorly drawn _Aristotle the Octopus_ on it – he had to Google who Aristotle was, when he had found out it was from the Addams's family, he'd gone out and bought two similar shirts – and some slim fitting jeans he hurriedly threw them on. Lacing a brown leather belt along his waist he walked back into the kitchen where Inu had now moved on to lapping up mouthfuls of water.

"Common," Ichigo said as he grabbed the brown leash the dog had come with. Sauntering over, Inu patiently allowed him to hook the leash to the collar then sat down almost knowing that the man had forgotten a few things. The dog waited patiently as it looked at the opposite wall with vague interest as Ichigo threw a few things into a backpack; wallet, phone, iPad, a ball, whatever he could think of.

Once everything had been checked Ichigo and Inu headed in the direction of the train, though the neighbourhood he lived in was generally nice it didn't have any convenient parks around. So he and the dog would take the train two stations over were a park sat across from a Belgian style bakery. The pace was slow as Inu couldn't walk very fast but he didn't really mind, they'd be where they needed to be eventually. Stopping at the bakery Ichigo got a coffee and three Danishes: one plain, one lemon, and one strawberry.

He'd probably end up giving the plain one to Inu, though that was just an after thought. They had gotten to the park an hour later and it had started to get busy. University students littered the area as some chose to sit under the shade to read and study, others lay in the grass looking at the clouds, and there were even a few people throwing a Frisbee around. They chose a spot on a slant right in front of a garden. Inu had gone to sniff the red and orange flowers as Ichigo took out the ball and his iPad.

Coming back over with a sneeze, the dog looked at the ball attentively a slight grumble in its mouth. Ichigo looked in his hand then back at the dog, "I don't think you'd be able to play fetch any more. You can barely get on the couch without groaning in agony."

"Just take the thing," Inu leapt at the ball, drool splashing Ichigo's hand making the man glower in disgust. Flicking his hand – flinging the slobber back at the dog – he shot Inu a threatening look, the boxer completely ignoring him as he gnawed at the ball.

Once his hand was free of drool he pulled out his iPad to start working on a few mixes that had come to mind. Music was his dangerous addiction, he'd go into withdrawal sometimes if he hadn't listen to it for a long while. Working in two establishments that required continuous exploration of music had only fuelled this dependence of his. Though he was thankful that his obsession was harmless noise that tingled his brain and not one of the many drugs he had done since moving away from Karakura. Though he had stayed well away from heroine and meth, that shit scared him. Life is complicated; he was just further complicating his.

Sliding open the tablet Safari immediately opened with Hueco Mundo's list of possible fighters that were currently competing. Some of body shots had been shadowed to indicate a disqualification due to a loss or other reasons. In the middle of his screen stood the blue haired man from Benehime's a few days ago. Grimmjow 'Pantera' Jaegerjaques. The blue panther of the cage. He looked fucking menacing in this picture with a maniacal smile while every taught muscle clenched in his body. The man was absolutely different from how Ichigo had first seen him, though maybe it was because the man was forced to dress up to attend the show. Dress codes are a bitch.

Closing the browser, he opened a soundboard app, which allowed him to tinker all sorts with his music. He set to work on creating sound; a steady drum beat that would give a tempo and rhythm to the music, adding a bass to make a snaring effect which Ichigo moulded to build up, and he had decided on 'dropping the beat' to an xylophonic acoustic that he had been working on for several hours: trying to master it. Club goers loved when the bass dropped but it was a hidden fetish to all dancers in trying to find new movement to unique sounds. His Bollywood stunt a few weeks ago had been evident of that. Gyrations and fist pumps could only get you so far when he spun.

"Quite a unique rabble your creating."

"Holy FUCK!" Ichigo jumped from his spot – his ass literally leaving the earth for a millisecond. Hand over his chest, irritated eyes glared upwards at the old man who stood before him. Inu was startled as well giving Ichigo a sideways glance as if saying _what's your problem orange head_?

"Such a mouth," the man spoke again, undisturbed by the youth's outburst. His eyes were closed as fu Manchu styled eyebrows descend the old and withered face. All the hair in the man's body must have been concentrated on his face as the geezer had a wicked grey beard Ichigo had ever seen, the long strands tied back in an interlacing purple ribbon. Though the man was in no way frail – even if his left hand shook as it held a brown wooden cane – leathery and worn yes, but Ichigo could see muscle definition that far surpassed anything he had ever seen.

"What did you expect? You scared the absolute shit out of me."

"I apologize, I did not mean to startle you."

Scratching the back of his head Ichigo looked down at his iPad, saving the music he had been working on he closed the app and locked the screen, "what a handsome mutt you have there. Such a beautiful colour…"

Ichigo looked down at Inu who was eyeing the man with what appeared to be faint familiarity. The stub of a tail was only slightly wagging, "yeah it is…"

"May I pet him?"

"Of-of course," the shaking left hand went out to pat Inu's head tentatively, scratching behind the ear earning a content snort.

"What is his name?"

"I'm not very sure. I only got him a week or so back, his old master died so I was asked to take him in. I've been calling him Inu as that seems to be the only thing that catches his attention."

If Ichigo hadn't been analyzing the man so closely he'd have missed the slight clench in his movements. Had he said something? "Inu?"

"Yup, Inu."

 _Snort_ , Inu looked as though he were in a state of bliss as those old fingers did wonders to his scalp.

"A little unorthodox," the man's hand moved down a fraction to scratch under Inu's collar, a chuckle rumbling from withered lungs, "but it works."

"That's what I keep saying…"

"I'm sorry to have bothered you son," the man's hand retreated from Inu's head making the dog huff a disgruntled breath of air, all good things come to an end, "do have a good day."

As soon as the man had arrived he sauntered off, heading to God knows where. Ichigo's hand brushed the dog's head making the small tail wiggle, scratching a folded ear Inu groaned in content beginning to paw at the ball. He seemed content to just hold the round object in his mouth; maybe his old master did used to play fetch with him? A question that Ichigo would never receive an answer. Flopping over onto his side, Ichigo began to unconsciously rub down the length of the dog's body, humming a soft tune on his lips.

A brief flash of white made his eyes drawn down to the collar around the dog, a piece of paper tucked between the animal and the leather strap. Had the man placed it there, and how, his eyes had been on him the whole time? A frown on his face as he grabbed the small white paper unfolding it a single word written on it: _Ggio_. Mouthing the word he pondered how to pronounce it, there was no way in hell that it was Japanese, possibly Italian or Spanish? Had Inu's owner been European? Though that wasn't exactly uncommon since more people from the Americas and Europe had begun to find their way into Japan. _Ggio_.

"Ggio?" finally saying it out loud it had a soft ring to it and rolled off the tongue fairly easily. He felt like he was stuttering at first all things considered. Movement to his side brought his eyes down to Inu who was looking up at him with a playful look in his old face. The ball fell from his mouth as he said it again, "Ggio? Does that mean something to you?"

Everything clicked at that moment as Inu sat on its back legs, a surprisingly large tongue coming out of his mouth to lick the human's face. That had been the first time Ichigo had gotten a dog kiss from the old mutt, "that's your name isn't it? Ggio."

Every time it slipped out of his mouth the dog grew more and more ecstatic, the age on his face even dissipated for a second making him look like a puppy again. A soft bark that surprised Ichigo followed by a howl made him laugh as he scratched the dog's back. "Ggio. It's not half bad."

"Your master must have had style," Ggio returned to his ball as though closing the discussion on his rediscovered name. Grabbing the white bag that contained his breakfast, he handed the plain flaky pastry to the dog who accepted it with wide-eyed vigour, "here have a Danish."

"I don't think dog's are supposed to be eating pastry but I don't think one will kill you."

The day progressed with an uneventful sluggishness that nearly drove Ichigo to the edge of insanity. After the park he and Ggio walked over to a costume shop – which somehow managed to stay open year round – to purchase what idea he had settled on. The dog was content with waiting outside as Ichigo entered to make a quick purchase of a black wig, a white masquerade mask with red and black stripes around the single part that covered half a cheek, yellow eye contacts, and a white tunic. He had decided to go as the Phantom of the Opera but with a demonic twist, hence the contacts.

Rukia met up with him on his way home as she had agreed to look after Ggio for the night. The petite woman had grown childhood affection for the dog – something about not growing up with a puppy in the Kuchiki household – the moment she laid her eyes upon the mutt. Today she had even blessed Ggio with a gift, a yellow stuffed lion, which she had given the name Kon. Ggio had been ecstatic about the gift holding it so gently in his mouth as he marched around the apartment showing Ichigo his gift with pride. Today was a really good day for the dog.

Renji soon found his way over, holding a bag with the logo of the costume shop Ichigo had just visited earlier that day in one hand and an open bottle of vodka in the other. The man always started the party on his own time. Not long after him three more figures barged into Ichigo's apartment, all carrying a shopping bag. Looks like they had all done some last minute shopping.

"Sorry we're late!" said Shuuhei, as he was the first to enter, rounding the entrance and meeting Ichigo in the kitchen. Placing three pizza boxes down, Ichigo's mouth instantly began to salivate – he hadn't eaten much all day as a matter of fact he hadn't even finished half a Danish from earlier, "your dopey neighbour wanted to fill us in on every part of his life. Did you know his personal hobby is taking care of bonsai trees?"

He thought about his blond neighbour, imagining the man hunched over the tree with a small pair of pruning scissors, "yeah he seems the type."

"He only stopped us because he's madly in love with you Shuu."

Averting his eyes from the pizza box to the closest thing to Japanese Marilyn Monroe that Ichigo would ever see. Matsumoto Rangiku was as voluptuous as the ocean is vast. Full lips, a beauty mark, ice grey eyes, and long blonde hair with an orange tint to it gave her an adult charm that deserved to be in cinemas. Gay or straight, men who would say no to this woman's advances simply do not exist. She especially had a certain charm towards Shuuhei that made him as nervous as a whore in church.

"You are just too nice to tell the man you aren't interested," the woman teased as long red polished fingernails covered her mouth from a small laugh.

"It was one time! Just one time!" Ichigo was pretty amazed that the man was even able to respond; when Rangiku went into flirt mode no man stood a chance. He must have taken a shot before meeting up with them, "he looked so miserable, I couldn't say no."

"That's because he had just gotten dumped," Renji piped up from the living room as he was currently sitting on the couch scratching Ggio behind the ear.

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"Well now you know better then to talk to strangers," Ichigo chimed in earning laughter from Rangiku and Renji.

"Fuck off man," Shuuhei mock sulked as he joined Rukia and Renji in the living room followed by the busty woman who began to fawn over the dog instantly.

A smaller man with snow-white hair and glacier blue eyes nodded at Ichigo as he walked towards the rest of the group. Toshiro Hitsugaya was a stoic man, though younger then the rest of the group he possessed a wisdom far beyond his years. From what he heard, Toshiro was some sort of prodigy that was discovered in the far north of Hokkaido. Though he didn't know what the younger man did for a living he knew it had something to do with ice, possibly ice-sculpting.

"So what are the plans for tonight?" Toshiro asked finding a spot as far away from Rangiku as possible. The pair had a unique love hate relationship – he would keep her in line and she would smother him in her ginormous breasts.

"Renji got us cheap tickets for a cage match tonight," answered Shuuhei sitting uncomfortably beside Rangiku. The look on his face just screamed for help, though it could also be because he had vehemently argued against going. Pacifist, violence made him squirm.

"Sweaty muscular men in tight short-shorts? This night is already getting better by the minute!" said Rangiku, the cheer in her voice lifting all spirits, "we get to relax and watch people beat the lights out of each other before we get to dress up and go to an art gala? Shame you can't come Rukia."

"I don't like fights and I don't understand modern art. I'd rather chill with the dog."

"Why a costume party for the art show anyways, it's not even relatively close to Halloween?" Ichigo had been wondering that since he had been invited, it was mid-June and summer was just starting to show itself.

"Supposedly it's for some kind of charity. Not too sure, I was just asked to spin and handed cash," answered Shuuhei, "which reminds me what is everyone going as?"

"A demonic Phantom of the Opera," responded Ichigo.

"I'm going as a nurse and Lil'Shiro here is some kind of ninja-samurai…thing," Ichigo expected nothing less from the pair. For as long as he had known them; the woman loved attention and the man had a neo-sense of honour of a modern day samurai.

"I'm going as Keith Richards," Renji got up to grab a slice of pizza, "I was going to go as Tarzan but I don't have the balls to show up to a public place in a loin clothe."

"I would have paid to see that!" Rangiku and Ichigo busted into a throw-your-head-back kind of laughter, both probably having a similar mental image of Renji in the middle of a dance floor with a leopard print loin clothe.

* * *

 **3 years ago.**

 _It was one of the worst days of his life so far. No matter how many times you break up with a person, it just never gets easier. Anyone who claims that it is a part of growing up is a fucking asshole. The beers soothed his throat as he had already pounded two back and was waiting for his waiter to bring him a third. Drinking away whatever he was feeling had been his instant train of thought. He didn't understand what he was feeling; it was a mixture of guilt and infuriation._

 _Grimmjow had wandered the streets of Tokyo in a mindless daze after Halibel had confessed that she wanted to end whatever they had. It had started as just sex and that was all that it was supposed to be. So when he had vocalized that it had gotten him a very well placed fist to the face. The shiner that was starting to grow felt sore and had earned him a few second glances while walking aimlessly through the night. He probably deserved it though. He was good at being an asshole._

 _Only by coincidence did he find himself at Benehime's – the place Halibel would take him on their 'dates', if you could even call them that – drinking away the sting of the fist. In all honesty he was more pissed that she had punched him than actually breaking up with him. Whatever, the beer was helping. What wasn't helping was the singer on stage, some orange haired shit singing in English while his identical twin played on the piano._

 _He had recognized the song as_ Dancing On My Own _by Robyn, a lot of the radios were playing it and almost every teen heartbreak playlist had it on at least twice. How suiting. Though the man was making the song bearable and his voice was soft, decent but held a subtle power to it; like he was just waiting to let loose. It made him want to drink his beer all the more. An unconventional drinking song? Why not, the night was young and he had already gotten into an unnecessary fight._

 _The man finished and those who had remained in the bar applauded him, Grimmjow included but his heart wasn't in it. His attention had quickly turned back to peeling the label off the glass bottle wishing he had another drink, Christ he sounded fucking miserable. Running a hand through his hair he mentally kicked himself remembering he'd have to train tomorrow with his bitch trainer. The universe just wasn't giving him a fucking break was it? She'd probably want to talk about it even though there was nothing to talk about. She was moving on and he hadn't been invested in it all that much himself. Nothing to talk about._

 _The orange haired waiter returned holding two drinks in his tray, his body language relaxed. He seemed like a different person when he wasn't behind the microphone, like he was almost comfortable? No, that didn't make sense. He had noticed the man's tenseness on stage like he was forcing himself to do this. Probably for extra pay, the supposed man who ran Benehime's was a pervert._

 _"Uhhh, excuse me could ya get me—" he was cut off as a glass with a golf ball sized ice cube half submerged in a light ember liquid being placed in front of him. What the fuck was this? Was this man so nerve struck he had forgotten that he'd been drinking beer all night, "I've been having beer all night, not that hard to remember."_

 _The redhead intern rolled his eyes and scoffed off what he had just said. Were they allowed to do that? "I'm not stupid. I just sensed that you needed a change."_

 _"Beer is fine," Grimmjow challenged, he wouldn't mind putting his fists into a rude worker, it had been one of those nights._

 _"Beer is for cheap laughs and the depressed."_

 _"_ _ **Beer**_ _is fine."_

 _"Have you ever had whisky?" the redhead pulled out the chair in front of him sitting down. A bit astonished that the waiter had the balls to do so, he quickly scanned the room in total disbelief, was anyone else seeing this? "We get an Irish import that is smoother than any beer you'll get in Japan."_

 _That had promise, "okay, why whisky?"_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"Well ya could've gotten me any kind of drink, what's so special about whisky?"_

 _"It's the best to drink after a fight," the man pointed to one of his eyes, indicating Grimmjow's bruise. Shit was it that obvious? Bruising usually didn't happen that fast, Christ another thing to look forward to on his walk home, "that and whisky makes you feel all warm inside. Europeans say it's a gentleman's drink."_

 _"That's a load of shit."_

 _Grimmjow took a sip, missing what the man said next. The liquid made its way down his throat leaving a gentle trail of fire in its wake. It cleared his throat and left his mouth with a strange after taste of sweet wood and something akin to apple. What the shit kind of drink was this? The man had been right it was smoother than any beer he'd ever find in Japan – but that was probably a given – but damn the Irish new what's good._

 _"I like the slight burn."_

" _The more you drink it the more the burn turns into a tickle."_

 _"It's sweeter than I imagined it would be," he took another sip, the man across from his looked as though he had been punched in the gut. An embarrassed face with a dusted blush grew of ear to ear on it, was he a lightweight? He had to admit, he secretly enjoyed the baffled expression, "what is that flavouring?"_

 _"Maple wood possibly."_

 _"Hnn?"_

 _"Whisky will take on the flavour of the wood of the barrel its being aged in," the man took another sip, this time letting it sit in his mouth for a fraction, "this whisky also has a hint of honey to it."_

 _The conversation died after that as the man rung up the bill, not including the whisky claiming that it was on the house. Was the redhead flirting with him or did he just take pity because of the growing black eye? Grimmjow preferred that it was the prior; he didn't need pity. He left Benehime's with the taste of whisky on his lips and a head that was still a hurricane of thoughts._

* * *

Grimmjow's left side exploded with heat as the fist collided with a sweet spot, which was definitely going to leave a mark in the shape of a duke. He wasn't being sloppy, the douche bag with the pink Mohawk was just so unpredictable when it came to his fighting style. Bazz-B or _Burning Fingers_ was a crowd favourite just simply because he was fucking insane. The man went all out when it came to his offence that he barely ever needed to resort to a defence. He was a no guard type of fighter; ensuring that every attack hits unrelentingly. He was good, but Grimmjow was better.

He had drawn on the fight long enough to take a good knocking around, the crowd was loving it and the money would be really good. That and he could feel Halibel's eyes shooting lasers into his skull. Time to wrap this up. Taking a few cautious steps back he lowered his guard, shaking his taped hands and cracking his neck – wincing slightly at the shooting pain up his left side – he began to hop from one foot to the other. It didn't take long for Bazz-B to charge in, a maniac smile plastered onto his face a fist raised as he sprinted at a quick speed.

If the fist had connected with Grimmjow's jaw it would have been a knock out for sure. But that didn't happen, he was fast, at the last moment he sidestepped catching Bazz-B off guard as Grimmjow fist collide with the man's gut like a rocket. The wind was instantly knocked out of the man's lungs as he lost his footing and stumbled backward. The crowd went silent, expecting Grimmjow to have gotten nailed. The next move sealed the deal as he delivered a swift roundhouse kick to the man's face. _Burning Fingers_ fell like a brick wall.

The referee didn't even need to tap the man out as Grimmjow's arm was lifted, the crowd a mixture of booing and cheering, though mostly the later. He walked out of the cage and back to wear the changing room and showers were, waiting until he was out of sight from the crowd when he collapsed against the wall hand going to his left side. He had over exerted himself with that one, and he still had to go to this fucking costume party his friend Gin Ichimaru had invited him to, the fucking snake.

When he was in the dressing room he stripped quickly and booked it for the shitty showers. Maybe hot water would ease the ache. It didn't but at least it alleviated some of the muscle spasms that were shooting up and down his spin. By the time he was finished the water had started to go cold. Rotating his left arm to stretch out the muscles a bit more – testing the waters to see if he was actually capable of going to this thing – he was a little annoyed when everything seemed okay. He didn't want to go to this fucking party and be around all these rich snobby people who were going to buy art that didn't make any fucking sense to him.

After towelling off he set out in putting on his miserable fucking excuse of a costume. He hurriedly put on the white karategi, wrapping the black belt around his waist, and tying the red ribbon around his forehead. Looking in the mirror he stared at his reflection and the shitty attempt at dressing as Ryu from the _Street Fighter_ series. It was the only thing he could think about on such short notice and the cheapest as well. Though something looked off about the outfit like he was missing something – he had the red sparring gloves in his bag that he was going to put on when he got to the party – taking out his phone he looked up a picture of Ryu on Google. Tossing the phone into his bag he ripped off the sleeves of the gi, revealing his arms that still shone from after-fight sweat.

Now he was ready and fucking late. Driving was probably not the best idea but he wouldn't be caught dead walking around Tokyo looking like Ryu.

* * *

Shuuhei was the perfect person to have hired as DJ for the ritzy art party. Mellow but rhythmic music was his style, and it reflected the artwork perfectly. Ichigo and his group had arrived shortly after watching Bazz-B get the lights kicked out of him by Grimmjow. That and Rangiku and Renji had almost started a fight with a couple of Bazz-B fans, the pair always got really heated when they went to cage matches. That and they just didn't like Bazz-B's fighting style all that much. The man was cool when he was outside of the cage – he hung out with Renji on the occasion, they had clicked from mutual appreciation of each other's hair – but in the cage he was just a complete jackass.

Of course when they had all gotten to the party – yet again Rangiku and Renji had managed to get themselves plastered before arriving – Ichigo soon found himself going to the roof of the building. The artwork was beautiful and if he had the money he would have possibly bought one. He just didn't feel like he belonged to that crowd for a second. As soon as they had stepped into the party his group had vanished. Shuuhei had gone off to do his job and take over for some loser who was just playing radio hits. Toshiro had instantly struck up a conversation with a man dressed in a business suit with a jester mask; it had been something about art so he assumed that they knew each other. He didn't stick around to find out.

Rangiku was pretty popular as she did part-time modelling for some of Tokyo's and even Japan's big name clothing brands. She had been instantly been snatched away by some posh looking people dressed as ghouls and vampires. There would be no finding her for the rest of the night. Though the greatest betrayal of them all was when Renji had ditched him to go and talk with a group of very attractive men and women. He claimed to have known them from before his DJ-ing times but Ichigo highly doubted that as the man had only one thing on the mind; getting his dick wet.

The only escape for Ichigo had been grabbing a bottle of champagne discreetly and making off to the roof where he currently stood, looking over the edge out towards Tokyo bay. The sun had already fallen leaving the night to be illuminated by streetlights and the cityscape. You couldn't see the stars in Tokyo, he missed seeing the stars. Popping open the champagne bottle, the cork flew off somewhere over the edge he took a huge swig of the bubbly liquid.

Taking a few more sips he lifted himself off onto the edge. Placing the bottle down beside him, he stretched out his arms. He could jump right now and the music would only stop when the screams from bellow were heard, ruining everyone's night. But he wasn't going to jump all he wanted was to feel free for a second. The wind picked up power as it pushed him away from the edge, making the loose flapping white sleeves of his tunic ruffle in the wind. Opening his eyes was almost impossible and they instantly began to water, both from the contacts and the sharpness of the night's air against them.

 _Do you feel like a young God?_

He was free, and then the door behind him swung open.

* * *

Grimmjow headed towards the roof an unlit cigarette in his mouth as he fumbled around for a lighter. This costume party was turning out to be abso-fucking-lutely _awesome_. Not only had he gotten a sideways glance from the man who took the invitations at the front door – the man had clearly assumed that Grimmjow was street trash at first – but he had become the ultimate fifth wheel. Yes, the people he had shown up with had decided to go as _couples_ costumes, fucking couples costumes.

Ulquiorra and Orihime had gone as Gomez and Morticia Addams from _The Addams Family_. Orihime looked stunning in that black gothic dress that flowed so effortlessly making it look like she wasn't walking, however her tits looked like they were about to say hello to the world any moment. Though Grimmjow had to admit that Ulquiorra looked undeniably historical with a black pencil moustache that Orihime had drawn on.

Starrk – who somehow looked like he was finally awake – and Halibel had decided to go as a Yakuza couple. Starrk had put on one of his expensive looking suits and had one of his friends draw on ominous looking scars over his left eye and the right side of his lip. He had to admit, the dude looked like a total badass. Halibel had gone for something more fan fantasy as she dressed up a sultry blue furisode kimono – swinging sleeve – waves and koy fish embroider into the fabric. She had put up her blonde hair and had even given herself an X scar on her left cheek. She as well looked like a total badass.

After taking one goddamn look at them Grimmjow had made it his mission to avoid them at all cost for the rest of the night. Not like he was going to stay long since the only reason he came to this thing was because of Gin and the man was totally swamped by a horde of people. Flustered and frustrated with the night he took off not even bothering to look at any of the art – he'd make up a lie and say it was some fancy shit later. Pulling out a cigarette he walked up the stairs that lead to the roof practically kicking the door open, the sight that stood before him made his lungs stop working.

A man with black hair, a white tunic, and black dress pants was standing on the ledge of the building with his arms spread out and a bottle of champagne beside him. _SSSSSHHHHIIIIIITTTTTTT_ , what the fuck had he gotten himself into? A drunk jumper? No, not today sir, this man was not going to make this party any more shitty than it already was.

"DON'T DO IT MAN!" Grimmjow yelled making the man bounce a fraction as his arms curled in and he spun around, demonic looking yellow eyes and a Phantom of the Opera style mask looking at him. _Yeah Grimm brilliant, scare the shit out of the guy so he falls off_ , "it's not worth it! Whatever ya are going through it's not worth jumping off—"

"I WASN'T GOING TO JUMP OFF YOU RETARD!" the man shouted back in an equally pissed voice, a hand coming up to hold his chest as he slowed his breathing. This stunned Grimmjow as the cigarette fell out of his mouth, "Jesus Christ, you don't scare a person who is one the ledge like that!"

"How the fuck was I supposed to know ya weren't goin' ta jump?"

"I don't know you fucking ask calmly?" the man spat back, lowering himself so he was sitting with his back facing away from the street bellow. He took a huge swig of the champagne, "shit," his demon eyes returned to Grimmjow an irritated look pressed on the uncovered half of his face, "what do you want?"

The jumper's attitude was making Grimmjow's lip curl back. Okay yes he had fucked up, _there was no need to be pissy about it_ "came ta get away from the party."

"Don't enjoy modern art?"

Picking up his dropped cigarette, he fiddled with it in his hands before flicking it away, he spoke almost in a whisper "somethin' like that…"

He felt the demonic yellow eyes on him, studying him. The man's costume was very modern and forward thinking and pretty simple. The Phantom of the Opera, but a devilish twist to it, it was incredibly…sexy? The man's legs were firmly outlined by the slim black chinos that tucked in the looser fitting tunic. Though the black hair bothered Grimmjow, like it was out of place and it didn't belong. Just as he was thinking it the man reached up and ripped off the obvious wig, revealing orange flames of hair. The tips looking almost yellow in the night's light.

"Ichigo?"

"The one and only," the man responded with a scowl as he was adjusting bobby pins in the wig. Frustrated and a little defeated he threw the wig over his shoulder letting it fall off the building. Picking up bottle of champagne he took another large chug before outstretching it to Grimmjow, "want some?"

"…Thanks," Grimmjow stepped forward after a few minutes of contemplative silence taking the champagne and gulping a large mouthful of the bubbly liquid, "how did you manage to knick this?"

"Most of the workers down there are so up their own asses they barely even notice you."

"Well put."

Ichigo scratched his head lifting himself off the ledge and walking over to sit against the ventilation shaft and electrical room. Patting the spot beside him, Grimmjow took another swig before falling beside the man handing him back the bottle, "I like your costume by the way."

"Thanks," Grimmjow responded, cracking his knuckles and wincing a bit at the muscle spasm that occurred on his left side. Christ, maybe he shouldn't have come after all, "it was the only thing I could thing of last minute. Yours is, ah, pretty—"

"Lame?"

"Original. Do ya know how many vampires I saw down there?"

"Probably just as many as guys in suits with masquerade masks."

"What the hell is with that? It's a costume party!"

Ichigo chuckled a bit as he took another sip of the champagne, "who makes an art showing a costume party?"

"A question for the fucking ages," Grimmjow liked when the man laughed, he sounded so youthful and care free. The man was warm; he practically radiated a comfortable heat that tickled Grimmjow's arm hair. He shouldn't like it but he did, "how do ya know Gin?"

"Who?" Ichigo passed him the bottle, which Grimmjow took a generous swig from; it was starting to get lighter by the second.

"I guess I got my answer."

Another laugh that made Grimmjow's spine tingle and his gut tighten; fight or flight, "I'm a friend and co-worker with the DJ that was hired. He invited a couple of friends and me tonight. They all took off into the night and left me to do my own bidding. And here we are."

"Here we are…"

"Why are you here? I'm assuming you know this Gin guy."

"Yeah," Grimmjow began wishing that he had a lighter as he pulled out another cigarette and twirled it in his fingers, "we go back, he's the artist who's tryna sell all his shit tonight."

"Tell him I think his shit is nice," Ichigo had pulled out a lighter and held the flame in front of Grimmjow. This was the second time the man had given him a light, "did you find out the name of that dog?"

"Ggio."

"Ggio? Sounds Italian…" Grimmjow hummed as he let a comfortable silence fill the space between them. His eyes wandered to the sky – though you couldn't see shit – it was at least a cloudless night leaving a deep purple to the universe beyond. He tilted his head to the side, feeling those eyes on him again. Catching a blush cross the man's face, a small smirk drew on his lips as those yellow eyes quickly averted their gaze.

"I saw your fight today."

"Didja now?" the spent cigarette was flung somewhere across the roof, landing in silence as the music boomed bellow them. The DJ guy must have pumped up the party or something, cause it didn't sound like this when he had been leaving.

"Yeah. It was…violent? Well it was awesome," Ichigo began the blush deepening on his face as it drew further down his cheeks, "I've only seen guys in movies who are able to drop kick like that."

This made him laugh as he took the final sip of champagne – shit they had finished it already and he wasn't feeling a thing? "Thanks, he probably got a concussion though."

"Better not to remember how he got his ass handed to him then."

They sat in comfortable silence again, listening to the remix that the DJ was currently spinning. Grimmjow began to hum along, recognizing the original words that were being used. Turning his head again he looked over at the man who sat beside him, long fingers ripping apart the wrapping on the mouth of the champagne bottle, face in a concentrated scowl. This man scowled a lot. Giving up Ichigo met his gaze with a slight shy and embarrassed look in his eyes, "so…I'm not nearly intoxicated enough to be here—"

"—Me either. Shit we should steal another bottl—"

"—Want to drop some acid?"

That effectively shut Grimmjow up. He had never really been one for illegal substances, had nothing against them just didn't bother with them. He felt his face tighten a fraction and a sceptical look grow on it, "Uhmmm…I ah...I've never done it before."

"That's fine, I'm here with you," Ichigo said in a semi comforting tone of voice. Though it didn't convince him, he wasn't nervous but he wasn't sure either, "I'm not going to abandon you," great now he was being babied by a ginger on the roof of some building in Tokyo, "you can say no, it's alright."

"Fuck it. Let's do it."

Ichigo pulled out his wallet, taking out a baggy that had two small square pieces of paper. Ripping the two apart from each other he handed one to Grimmjow, the man looking down at the purple picture of the Cheshire cat manically staring up at him. Promising. He watched Ichigo place the small square on his pink tongue, "I'm not going to want to jump off the roof am I?"

"Probably not," Ichigo thought for a few seconds before answering him. The redhead's gaze was looking straight forward before settling on him again, "don't worry I'm going to keep you grounded. Also these aren't very powerful. You'll most likely just hallucinate and get the giggles."

"Hallucinations that I can fly?"

"Only if you keep thinking like that," Ichigo sniggered making his face light up. He looked so much younger when he smiled, "when it comes to acid, as soon as you have an idea in your head it kind of takes over. So if you believe you can fly then you'll try to fly."

"You've done this before?" Grimmjow asked as he placed the paper on his tongue. It dissolved fairly quickly leaving a sweat taste behind.

"Once or twice. I don't actively go out and seek it," Ichigo's brows furrowed as his eyes darted up to look at his hair. Even though the man was wearing contacts, Grimmjow could see the dilation of the pupils, was it that instantaneous? "I just had these on me because Renji had gotten some before…"

"Who's Renji?"

Grimmjow felt a large smile grow on his face as the man came to realization that he was staring too closely. A blush exploded across his cheeks making the freckles stand out. It seemed that you could only see the little brown pigmentation whenever he would blush. He'd have to remember that for later, if he ever ran into the man again that is.

"What?"

The cackle that left Grimmjow's throat startled Ichigo making the blush deepen and spread to his neck. The man was definitely sweating now, a hand going up to scratch the back of his head and play with those defiant orange locks, "Renji, who's that?"

"Co-worker," Ichigo's eyes returned to his forehead, the hand that wasn't rubbing the back of his head kept curling into a fist. Orange brows creased in concentration, "I'm sorry but your hair looks really fucking cool when I'm on acid."

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest at that response. Yes, Grimmjow knew that his hair colour was both unique and fairly obnoxious. Blue was just not a natural hair colour, no matter what anyone says. As a kid it had gotten him into so many fights from both bullies and friends alike, he was used to receiving the off hand comment of whether it was natural or why would he dye his hair such a shade.

"It looks like a fresh water lake," said Ichigo, more too himself than to the other man, "can I touch it?"

"Go for it ya little stoner."

"Shut the fuck up," Ichigo quickly responded as the clasping hand on his knee went up to touch his blue hair as Grimmjow titled his head down slightly. The hand did not tug; instead it brushed over the tips, roaming before pressing further in. A smile tugged on the left side of Ichigo's cheek as his hand ran through the strands. Though he would not admit it Grimmjow loved every second of this, he had a thing for people playing with his hair and Ichigo was doing it so gently.

He caught himself feeling disappointed when the hand retreated. _Shit what the fuck_? Ichigo was looking down at the hand that had been roaming his scalp, as though he were looking at a work of art. The dude was high as fuck, "wow, it's soft."

Grimmjow let him have that one as it sounded like he was talking to himself. Leaning his head back against the vent pipe his eyes drew upwards at the sudden flash of a blue swirl. Another blue swirl caught his eyes before others and multiple flashing dots joined it. You can't see the stars in Tokyo, the city lights polluted the sky too much, so then what the hell was he looking at? "Woah."

"What?"

"I'm tripping the fuck out."

"What, why?"

Grimmjow titled his head to the side in a lazy manner, meeting Ichigo's demonic coloured contacts, "the sky looks like a fucking Van Gogh painting."

Ichigo's laugh surprised him at just how pure it was. The man bent over as a hand came up to press against his mouth, his legs retracting so he could lean his head on his knees. Just watching the man laugh made Grimmjow begin to laugh as well, he pushed the man in a playful manner making him sway.

It happened so quickly that Grimmjow did not know what had occurred, his muscles reacting on their own to the sudden pressure against his lips. The kiss was a dusted press of two lips. Ichigo pulled back his eyes going wide as if he couldn't believe what had just happened himself. He had no idea who initiated the first kiss – if you could even call it that – but he took full control of the second one as his long fingers weaved through orange locks bringing their faces together.

In no way was it passionate. Filled with heated animalistic desire that forced more teeth and tongue than anything. Ichigo took control of the kiss, slowing it down as lips moved together in sloppy caresses. Closing his eyes, he allowed his other senses to take in Ichigo; the smell of his cologne, the softness of his hair between his fingers, the taste of his champagne stained mouth, and the sounds of his humming into the kiss.

It ended as soon as it started but somehow felt longer then an eternity. His hand moved from the back of Ichigo's head to caress the side of his face, his calloused thumb rubbing against the soft cheek making a sandpaper effect. Everything about this man felt so hard but soft, he moved in to place another kiss enjoying how the other's tongue came out to ask for entrance into his mouth. Grimmjow complied allowing their tongues to move together before Ichigo moved away his body demanding oxygen.

"Shit…I don't normally kiss boys."

Ichigo gave a chuckle at that as his hand came up to clutch Grimmjow's that was still against his cheek. Instead of dropping it he held the hand, as if not wanting to let go or end the moment just yet. Yellow eyes met his gaze, "you really know how to kill a moment."

"So I've been told," enjoying the way Ichigo's hand fit so perfectly into his. The fingers smooth against his rough digits. Contrast. Perfection, "we should get back to the party."

"Alright, just don't stare at the artwork for more then five minutes. You'll make yourself look extremely suspicious."

"Coming from ya—"

"I'm not the one who thinks the sky looks like a Van Gogh painting."

"Fair enough," they both stood on wobbly legs. Opening the door Grimmjow lead the way, following the sound of the music, Ichigo's hand still clutched in his. At the sudden tug he turned around to meet demonic eyes and a smidge of a blush grow across the other's face.

"You go on ahead, I need to use the washroom."

"Sounds good," Grimmjow's hand felt empty and cold as he let go of the other's. What the fuck was going on with him? "Will I see ya again?"

"Only time will tell."

Grimmjow left the man where he stood, the acid still streaming through his system as he entered into the party. It had since picked up; a dance floor had been cleared where a few people were dancing in uncoordinated movements. He easily found Orihime and Ulquiorra; the woman asking where he had been all night, the man instantly noticing his dilated pupils, a smirk on the usually unmoving face.

He did not answer their questions as his mind drifted back to his exploits on the roof and how unbelievable those kisses felt beneath a sky painted by Van Gogh. His own secret for the night.

He however missed Ichigo leaning against the wall, a hand going up to his heart to grip his shirt in a pained expression. He definitely missed when the man whispered under his breath "what are you doing Ichigo?"

* * *

 **Thank you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: So this is going to be a shorter chapter than the last two, so I apologize. I had the hardest time writing it but it needed to be done in order to progress the plot. We are getting somewhere trust me, it's just going to take a few more chapters :). Thank you to all who have been reading this and a big thank you to those who have favoured, followed, and reviewed it simply means the world that you are taking time out of your day to enjoy my writing!**

 **Onward~**

* * *

Chapter 4

 _In these brief moments, we start somewhere in the middle_

* * *

The funeral service was held on a clear July day with skies that held no trace of clouds and only a vast blue. It was not a day to be wearing black dress clothes and cramped in a cemetery with almost half the cage fighters in all of Tokyo alone. If you were like Grimmjow and had no idea why you had been brought along, this burying of the coffin was a waste of a perfectly good day. This beautiful July day could have been spent doing anything other then being around the melancholy and the grieving. The people he had even came with only showed their faces to pay respect, shit they had even shown up late.

They would have been there sooner if Starrk and Halibel hadn't taken forever, supposedly it had something to do with Halibel's dress ripping. Grimmjow was willing to bet anything that it had to do with her massive tits. There had been more than one occasion were those ladies had destroyed a perfectly tight t-shirt. So by the time the group had actually arrived, they had to sneak in and hide in the back of the crowd all wearing sunglasses that hid their faces.

The Shinto priest had just finished going through a prayer and honouring old man Yamamoto – the best cage fighter there ever was – allowing people to come up and do individual prayers. Many of the gathered were split between the traditional funeral garb of plain kimonos while the other half – including himself – had gone for a more modern western look of black dresses and suits. The whole scenario looked like it had come from a third-rate Yakuza movie as half the men looked so roughed up from cage fighting and the women even tougher.

Genryuusai Yamamoto; the king of the cage, the undefeated, the strongest fighter that there ever was had finally met his end. Not even once since they got to the funeral did anyone – priest or other – say a goddamn thing about how the man had died. Its like he was watching the final part of a trilogy after not seeing the first or second movies. Grimmjow could feel himself become more irritated as the people continued to talk about Yamamoto without saying how he had died.

"Are any of them going to say how he died?" Halibel whispered an irritated look plastered on her face as those green eyes shot daggers behind her sunglasses. Well at least he hadn't been the first one to break. Her lover lifted his shoulders in a 'beats-me' exaggeration.

"If we hadn' been late, then we would'a definitely been in the loop," Grimmjow responded, his voice hushed so that he wouldn't draw attention to them.

"I said I was sorry about fifty times!"

"Just please don' be late for my funeral," said Grimmjow in a bored tone as his brows furrowed as he tried to concentrate on a weeping old woman. She seemed to be going on a nostalgia binge as she talked about something that had to do with California. Either California or calamari, she had a shit accent that made it impossible to understand what she was saying.

"How do you think he passed?" Starrk asked deciding to cut in.

"Could be anything," replied Halibel.

"He probably killed himself to get away from this woman," Grimmjow mumbled to himself but had been loud enough for Halibel to give him a look in agreement.

"We should place bets on it."

All three heads turned to the shorter black haired man who stood in the middle of them, glasses covering his tired green eyes. Ulquiorra had remained silent for most the ceremony and hadn't even put up a fuss for being late. Though Grimmjow knew his best friend and it was probably killing him that he didn't know the cause of death. Though this was in no way like him at all, from what he could remember the Cifer family had grown up in a fairly devote Protestant household – being that papa Cifer was German. The man usually respected the dead, today was probably not one of those days.

"We each choose one possible cause of death. Place money on it then after the ceremony we ask someone how the old man croaked. Winner takes the money," Ulquiorra stated the rules, his tone sounding neutral. Silence grew as the group considered their options and whether this was a morally correct thing to do.

"I'm in," Grimmjow was the first to break the silence. Reaching for his wallet he took out a thousand yen and placed it into Ulquiorra's outstretched hand, "I've got dibs on something more violent. Car crash perhaps," Grimmjow looked over to see the other three giving him sideway glances as though he was a complete idiot, "the guy was ancient and probably wasn't a good driver? Don't give me those fuckin' looks anythin' is possible."

"I got heart attack," said Halibel as she to placed money into Ulquiorra's palm, "it's a leading cause of all death's in the world. Plus, I'd rather him die from something a little more peaceful."

"Yea' cuz dyin' from a heart attack is really peaceful…"

"Fuck off Grimmjow."

"Cancer," Starrk handed Ulquiorra his own yen.

"Suicide," Ulquiorra put his own yen in the pot before folding them up and putting them in his black dress pants' pocket, "the old man could have had depression. It's entirely possible."

A large war ravaged hand slid over the black haired man's shoulder holding a thousand yen. Grimmjow followed the large hand his eyes coming into contact with a single grey one. Zaraki Kenpachi had a face that only an ugly mother could love and a beast of a man standing at around six-seven. A pointed nose that had been broken so many times that it had a semi curve. With a gashing scar across the man's worn face and an eye patch covering his right eye, Kenpachi looked more like a demon than a man. His ever-present black hair lay fallen around his shoulders.

Of course his face was only evident of his very dangerous lifestyle. Kenpachi was one of the most terrifying cage fighters to have every existed, with close to zero losses and an unimaginable winning streak. When the man retired due to 'health issues', the giant would go off and participate in illegal cage matches. His reputation as a feral animal had garnered a following as the man now actively trained other fighters to follow in his footsteps.

"I'm with Grimmjow on this one, something violent," Kenpachi's voice boomed sending a shiver down Grimmjow's spine. Ulquiorra took the money without further question, as his attention seemed to be focused back onto the burying ceremony.

This funeral was taking what felt like forever as Grimmjow and his group of people listened to speech after speech from people who barely even knew the mysterious man. The sun shone high in the sky by the time that they were done. The group of five stuck around eavesdropping on passer-by's who were talking about the ceremony and the procession and just how beautiful the fucking flowers were. Grimmjow couldn't really give two shits about any of that as five thousand yen was on the line, which could get him at least three drinks.

It wasn't until two elderly women walked past them – skin looking as though it was barely holding onto the shaking bodies – that the five had gotten any indication on how the old man expired. _He had suffered a broken heart_. What the fuck does that even mean? Had some sort of Hollywood bullshit come to life? He had just lost the opportunity to get some free alcohol because the man had succumbed to lover's withdrawal. Shit the universe was just an unfair kind of place this time around.

Like they had arrived the five of them left last, much of the crowd spreading towards the house hosting the service only a few older ladies straggling behind for idle gossip. Hopefully this would be the last funeral he would need to attend for a long time, though his group had only come to pay respect to a great fighter – Halibel's idea – death always left a bad taste in his mouth. Grimmjow tended to avoid graveyards and funerals like they were the black plague. This had been one of the rare few that he'd gone to, ever since his mother passed away.

"So who exactly gets the money?" Starrk asked making Grimmjow focus back on the people he had come with. Each of them had probably earned a ticket to hell for placing a bet on how a man died at a funeral. Fuck it. They had settled on Halibel winning as she had mentioned the man's heart. How fair.

"More like who dies from such a pussy cause," Kenpachi mumbled more to himself as the older man had begun to walk ahead of the group. There wasn't exactly bad blood between them and the man, Kenpachi simply liked to fight and lived off of the notion of 'survival of the fittest, then I get to fight the fittest'.

"I second that," Grimmjow agreed mimicking the shit-eating grin that grew on the feral man's face.

"So disrespectful to the dead," chastised Halibel, "you both are going straight to hell."

"Possibly," said Grimmjow as he rested his arms on the back of his head, blue eyes looking up to the clear sky.

"A little bird told me that your gonna be fighting in Hueco Mundo," Kenpachi spoke, his deep voice making Grimmjow jolt.

"Yea, I made it to the qualifiers. Have ta fight one last person before they can even consider me in the competition, how about your boys? Any of 'em make it?"

"Hnn? Those pathetic excuses of men?" Kenpachi growled, one of the man's massive hands coming up and scratching the back of his head, "Yumichika decided to hold back this year. Somethin' about this years matches not meet'n his aesthetic. Ikkaku got through his fights and is qualified. So at leas' he can hold up the respect of _Squad 11 Training_. So long as he doesn' fuck up."

Starrk and Halibel left shortly after the conversation had turned on Grimmjow. Ulquiorra had practically spilled his guts to Kenpachi on their conversation on retiring from fighting. This had earned Grimmjow an earful of insults – mostly about asking where his dick was – on quitting so early. According to Kenpachi, twenty-six was his prime time for fighting. That had been when he had set his first record at breaking three other fighters' arms in back-to-back fights. This had only confirmed Grimmjow's suspicions that Zaraki was a total lunatic.

The man had kept on fighting even after the pleas from his doctors about his waning muscle strength and bones. Grimmjow had shot Ulquiorra a questioning look as if expecting the man to agree with the medical professionals, instead the raven-haired man agreed with Kenpachi calling the doctors 'pussies'. Grimmjow didn't know whether to laugh at the comical scene of Ulquiorra mimicking Kenpachi or to be worried that the smaller man was encouraging the older man to not listen to his doctors.

Kenpachi soon left after claiming that he needed to pick up his young daughter – Yachiru – from daycare, Grimmjow had met the little pink haired menace once. She had given him the unfortunate nickname of _Kitty_ ; this ungodly name was now always brought up whenever Halibel or Ulquiorra wanted to throw low blows. Ulquiorra followed suite as he had promised to spend the weekend with Orihime in Kyoto. He had intended for it to be a surprise but the man was so stoic and cold that he had ruined it before he even got the chance to surprise her. It had something to do with a dickpick, but Grimmjow had stopped the man from further explanation.

So he was left alone in the cemetery looking for his jaguar among the heaps of other cars that had shown up to either the funeral or to honour the lives of those no longer on this plain of existence. He had entered into a newer section of the graveyard that had recently been cleared to accommodate the growing demand to place memorials to the dead. Unlike its older counterpart, this section of the cemetery had taken on a more Westernized style to it as the tombstones were more spaced out and even a few mausoleums had open up to accommodate some of the more wealthier families of Tokyo.

His eyes wandered the rows of standing limestone observing different family names written in Kanji. Some of the alters held flowers that held some kind of specific meaning to those who had placed them others held childhood toys such as porcelain dolls of Japanese girls dressed in colourful kimonos, many simply just held burning incense. The lot was fairly empty except a sole figure with orange hair standing before a traditional Japanese tombstone, an old brindle boxer standing beside him with a neon green tennis ball in its mouth.

The Phantom from the art showing. The singer from Benehime's. Kurosaki Ichigo.

* * *

He had arrived at the cemetery a little later in the day then he had expected. They had to stop at a flower shop and Ggio's old frail bones wearing him down making the pair slow down so the dog could rest. Ichigo had been surprised to see so many cars at the cemetery, though people died everyday and funerals probably happened around the hour in places as populous as Tokyo. After asking the old ground's keeper where he could find specific area he was looking for, he grabbed a bucket of spring water and set out towards a newer section that had previously been forest until about a year ago.

Once in the right area he spent around fifteen minutes walking in-between headstones reading the kanji names of people he would never meet. Ggio followed with a tennis ball in his mouth, occasionally stopping to smell a flower or a trinket left behind. They came to a stop in front of a traditional looking tombstone with a red name carved into the expensive looking granite that matched the one that Baba Yaga had given him. Louisenbarn Baragan, Ggio's previous owner.

He had decided to pay the man a visit after his conversation with the old man from the park. Maybe the man was in heaven looking down on them right now, thankful that Ichigo had taken time out of his schedule so that the dog could visit the memorial erected towards his old master. That was probably a load of bullshit but it somehow made him feel better.

Placing the wooden bucket on the ground Ichigo grabbed the wooden ladle, scooping out some of the blessed clear liquid and poured it over the limestone. Clapping his hands together he did a small prayer, asking the man to look over his dog from the ethereal realm. He couldn't think of much else to prayer for as he felt a little awkward praying to a person he had never met, let alone asking the guy to look over him. With a sigh Ichigo scooped up more from the bucket, splashing it onto the stone again. Ggio had dropped his ball by this time and was proceeding to scoop the water into his mouth in a vast amount.

Grabbing the wrapped flower bag that he had placed on the ground beside the bucket, he tore the paper apart revealing an explosion of whites, reds, and yellows. Pulling the bouquet of flowers out of bag, he tossed the paper into the emptied bucket. He wasn't exactly sure what to do with the flowers; some of the graves had petals scattered around and on the limestone memorial, though Ichigo didn't want the petals to blow away. Other shrines had little vases already built into them, though it was clear that Baraggan wasn't expecting to many visitors. His tombstone was bare and basic at minimal.

"Hey," spoke a deep voice making Ichigo jolt as his spine prepared the rest of his body to run. Turning his head his eyes met blue ones that mirrored a running mountain stream and hair that mocked the colour of the sky. Grimmjow. The man was dressed in black dress pants and a white shirt, a black tie coming down the center.

It took Ichigo several minutes to recover as he blinked at the presence of the man. Ggio acknowledged him with faint boredom but still wandered over to him for a quick sniff and a possible scratch behind the ears. He finally broke the silence, "are you stalking me or something?"

"I could ask the same question."

Ichigo looked down at Ggio who had gotten his wish, the man's long fingers working miracles behind the dog's ears, "why are you even here?"

"I was attending a funeral."

"Oh," great now he had gone and said the single most insensitive thing possible. As if he couldn't put two and two together, the man was dressed up and this was a cemetery, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Wasn't much of a loss. I didn' personally know the man. Just came ta pay my respects for the old geezer," Grimmjow answered, a small smile on his face as he looked down at the dog.

"Anyone I would know?"

"Depends. How inta cage fightin' are ya?"

"Uhhh, I don't hate it? Not an avid fan of any fighters…"

Grimmjow chuckled at the answer, "then you most definitely wouldn't have known the guy."

Ichigo fidgeted with the flowers in his hands feeling a little self-conscious at how dry the conversation between the two was going. Was it normal for people who took acid together on a random roof dressed as fictional characters? Nothing had ever been normal in his life but never had he shared an experience like that with anyone, not even his closest friends from back home. He could still remember how soft that blue hair felt between his fingers, like the tips of barely in the late summer.

"Whatcha doin' here anyways?"

Ichigo's eyes fell to the bouquet in his hands, the flowers not giving off any distinctive smell, "you wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

"Try me."

His head snapped back up to search Grimmjow's face, looking for something he couldn't even begin to know what. The man's voice sounded like he was challenging him, the tone had placed a slight flirt to it, and the man's body language simply told Ichigo that the man was relaxed and possibly bored? He was analyzing everything the man did to closely, not everything had a meaning to it.

"I…uh, I met a very old man in the park the other day, he was the one who told me Ggio's name…" at the mention of his name the dog returned to Ichigo, grabbing his ball and choosing to lay down in the cold grass, "more or less. He somehow knew Ggio's owner."

Plucking a soft petal off one of the yellow flowers, he twirled it between his fingers, concentrating on the distraction, "he told me to come here and pay my respects or something. So here we are."

"That's kind of honourable."

"I guess."

Ichigo placed the flowers down before the gravestone. The reds, whites, and yellows did look beautiful in contrast to the grey of the limestone in a melancholy way. Picking up the water bucket, he followed Grimmjow down the steps back to the trail that would lead to the main streets of the graveyard. The large willows and Japanese maple provide the perfect amount of shade for the pair to walk in, keeping the summer rays off of their skin.

"What kind of flowers were those?"

" _Tsubaki_ , camellias," Ichigo responded as he kicked a small brown pebble ahead of them, watching it skip across the fresh pavement that had been laid out possibly a year ago, "I believe that they are typical funeral flowers in Japan, I think…

"My mother used to really enjoy _hanakotoba_ , she would always know the different meanings that the flowers would represent and their hidden messages," Ichigo continued, tilting his head to the side so that he could look at Grimmjow. The man's eyes studying him as they walked, "she would always tell us how she had fallen for dad. The goat face had bought her the bluest forget-me-nots she had ever seen."

"What do they mean?"

"I think it means true love? I don't actually remember."

"What about the camellias?"

"Well the yellow and white ones mean longing and waiting, while the red ones generally refer to graceful perishing love. I bought them from the perspective of the dog since it was his master."

"How sincere."

The man didn't seem like much of a talker and the expression on his face bordered on the edge of complete monotony. Ichigo concentrated on the stone again, kicking it a little further as some of his frustrations seeped into his actions. Small talk wasn't really his thing; in fact he would avoid it all together if he possibly could. But there was just something so… _familiar_ …about this man that made Ichigo feel a little tongue tied and restrictive when they had their brief interactions. Maybe they really did need to be on some kind of substance in order to actually go a little deeper, explore that familiarity.

 _Maybe even kiss again?_

Of course that was a shit idea. Ichigo felt his cheeks go blazing red as he thought back on that kiss done beneath the supposed sky, which looked like _The Starry Night_. It had been short but it had set him on fire, those kinds of kisses were dangerous and he knew better than to be around someone who made him feel like that. It's not what they would do to him, its what he will do to them. Subconsciously he widened the space between he and Grimmjow, thankfully being covered by Ggio walking between them.

"What are ya up to right now?"

Ichigo looked over to the man, shocked by the unexpected question making his mind go completely blank. What was he doing after this? "I don't think I have anything planned, probably just a nap before work."

"Would you like to grab something to eat?" asked Grimmjow, one of his hands going to scratch the back of his head his voice sounding earnest.

"Getting there might take a while, he can't walk all that fast," Ichigo responded giving a neutral answer as he pointed down to the dog.

"I drove here."

"He sheds like a mother fucker."

"I don' mind. I'll clean it later."

Ichigo agreed seeing as there was no point losing a pointless fight and the man did offer to drive him home after. They spent much of the car ride in silence listening to the radio. He had even rolled down one of the windows so Ggio could put his head out of the window. The dog looked like he was in total bliss as his long droopy tongue hung from his mouth. The radio had been their sole source of communication, as Grimmjow would change the channel every time Ichigo even commented on a song. It eventually came to the point where Ichigo was about to snap the man's fingers off, he may hate some songs but he hated people who changed the song before it could even finish.

It took them roughly a hour or so before they found a café that would allow a dog to sit out on the patio. The place however only served two types of Japanese tea; the rest of the menu was in French as the place had been Parisian inspired. Ichigo had ordered them each a beer and two French dip sandwiches (which weren't even from France). When the food finally came out the waitress had also brought along a bowl of water and a few scrap piece of steak for Ggio. She gave the dog a wink, flicking a pink pigtail over her shoulder leaving the two men to enjoy their food.

"So about the costume party…" and there it was, the topic that Ichigo had been be afraid of. His eyes searched Grimmjow's face looking for any sort of inclination of what was coming next. There were two possible outcomes to this. One would lead to Ichigo having a broken nose and possibly a black eye the other would make him feel bad about himself.

"What about it?"

"Well I don' really remember all that much after we took acid," Grimmjow responded sounding annoyed with himself. His face was cast down as though he were a child confessing to his mother about breaking her expensive lamp.

"Let's start with what you do remember."

"Well I remember up to the part of leaving you in the stairway, after that it goes fuzzy…" shit did he think that he got roofied? "We didn't…"

"All we did was kiss," Ichigo said, his voice holding a little bit of spit to it. Though he wasn't exactly sure why he was getting so worked up over something trivial, "your fragile sexuality is still intact."

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth as the large man visibly flinched. Was the man not used to getting a bit of the cold treatment? Sexuality is usually a touchy subject for those who are confused or teetering on the edge, and when it became more complicated the repercussions could leave the individual confused and frustrated with himself or herself, no one knew this more than Ichigo. Sighing Ichigo scolded himself for trying to clarify.

"Look, I'm sorry. You can blame it on the acid if you want—"

"I'm not blaming shit on the acid," Grimmjow growled as his eyes shot towards Ichigo. Both men drew threatening looks on their faces one a scowl out of confusion the other a snarl as he was being judged too quickly, "I'm just a little confused is all. Ya aren' the first guy I've been with so don' think your anythin' special."

"Oh, okay…so then why are you confused?" questioned Ichigo as he took a bite from the sandwich. He watched as Grimmjow's face changed as though the man were trying to figure out what to say next. This was possibly the weirdest interaction he's had to this date, "this is kind of weird…"

"Yea, didn' picture this happening when I saw ya at the cemetery," his voice was honest; he finally decided to take a bite of the sandwich.

"We could just start over?"

Grimmjow's face lightened at that as he crammed another large mouthful of the sandwich into his mouth. Ichigo felt his skin over his cheeks heat up a fraction; something about this made his cheeks blush and his stomach do a small summersault. There was nothing normal about how watching a weight lift off of Grimmjow's shoulders made him feel both relief and guilt, as his cheeks blushed and the back of his eyes burned. He was forgetting something very important; something that had happened so long ago that he had chosen to block it out. A day that changed everything for him.

The man had finished half of his sandwich as Ichigo's mind went into overload as he analyzed _everything_ , a terrible habit. Though the silence between them was comfortable Ichigo didn't want it to progress, thinking of the easiest topic to come to his mind he spoke, "how did you become a fighter?"

"I've always been fightin'. A seven year old with blue hair is a pretty easy target for the older kids to pick on, don' ya think?"

"You're talking to a guy who has obnoxious orange hair. Trust me I got into my fair share of fights."

"Fair enough, except somehow I managed to turn it into a career," said Grimmjow as he took a sip of the tea. The man didn't really seem like a tea person but he drank it with only mild repulsion showing on his face, "I got inta Tokyo's cage fighting a few years back when I was a little scrawnier. Halibel found me and decided ta train me and here we are. My turn. So, what do ya do for a livin'?"

"I sing part time at Benehime's and I'm a regular DJ at a few clubs."

"A DJ?"

"Yup, though it's my turn to ask a question," Ichigo commented as he took another sip of his tea, enjoying the savoury aroma of the jasmine his French dip long forgotten, "have you ever lost a fight?"

"Once but there was no chance of me winning," the waitress chose this time to return and refill their tea. Taking away the plates and the water bowl from Ggio who had since passed out in the shade that the table provided, "why a DJ?"

"Not sure, probably because I'm good at it?" Ichigo began wondering how he got into being a disk jockey. Music had always been in his life, hell his dad had bought him a keyboard when he was fourteen so he could practice the piano at home, "I think I got into it when I dropped out of University," Ichigo began making eye contact with questioning blue eyes, "it developed sometime after that I think."

"Why'd ya drop out of University?"

"Following a wave of wanderlust and was tired on constantly feeling pressured and depressed," Ichigo answered honestly, he was used to people questioning his decision to quit going to school, "that's two questions in a row. My turn."

The waiter came back with the bill, Grimmjow quickly swiping the paper saying that it was his treat this time, though he was making Ichigo pay for the next round. Fair enough. Ggio got up with a rough groan as they headed back to the blue vehicle. It would take them roughly an hour to get out of the Shibuya prefecture; it was around the time of rush hour while many middle and high school students headed off to their part-time jobs or cram schools. The dog hoped into the back of the car, giving a thankful grunt as his worn body rested against the cushioned seat.

"Did anyone ever call you blueberry in school when you were a kid?" Ichigo asked as his focus had been on Grimmjow's blue hair for the last three traffic lights, they weren't moving very fast. His fingers curled in his own orange locks, the radio lay muted, and the air conditioning turned on for the old dog. Grimmjow shot him an incredulous sideways glance, "I was always called strawberry but that's because of my name."

"No I was never called blueberry…Crayola yes, but never blueberry," Ichigo busted into laughter at the mention of the nickname; startling the dog and earning a playful shove from the other man. His hands were warm against Ichigo's skin, shooting a trail of fire through his pours, "stop laughing! It's not funny being told that I belonged in a pencil case when ya are seven."

"I'm sorry but you have to admit that is pretty genius for a bunch of seven year olds."

The smile that split across Grimmjow's face was innocent and drew from a sense of ease; it suited the man. Though Ichigo had a feeling that those smiles were far and few in-between, "yeah I'll give 'em that. Though ya must have gotten some shit with a name like strawberry."

"That's only because kids don't know how to read," Ichigo explained, "my name is actually written as 'number one guardian' or 'first defender', but the kids didn't know how to properly read kanji."

"Now imagine tryin' ta write Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."

"Yea, you got me beat there. By the way your last name isn't Japanese is it? Sorry if I'm prying."

"Nah, ya ain't pryin'. 'Sides ya had one more question. But you're right; it's not fully Japanese. Mum was Japanese and dad is Portuguese-Japanese. He moved here from Lisbon when he was young, ran away or somethin'. Met mum and the pair made their own last name. Kinda cheesy hun, and a little stupid?"

Ichigo's eyes slowly moved away from the man's face, their gaze looking towards the clearest blue of the sky. He did not miss the ' _was_ ' when the man was explaining his origin but it wasn't his place to ask. He didn't know how fresh the wounds were, "no it isn't. It's love."

"If ya say so."

Ichigo pretended to ignore the surprise and gratitude he heard in the man's voice, like as though he were expecting a different answer. Ichigo would agree that he didn't know much about a lot of things, but love was something of a mystery he had always been fascinated with. And it truly sounded like Grimmjow's parents had found the answers to that mystery. Lucky.

* * *

 _Who the hell is this guy_? Grimmjow thought to himself as he kept his eyes on the road, allowing the monotonous task to be taken over by reflex and habit. Everything about this orange haired man confused the shit out of him. When he had been trying to ask about the whole acid thing over super the man looked like he was about to bite his head off, but now the man had just given the greatest compliments his parents could have ever received. The pair had been disowned from their respective families, dad for unknown reasons but he had to leave his home country for a reason and mum because she wouldn't marry a man with some social status. She had chosen a Portuguese fisher who barely spoke any Japanese over a comfortable life. They were a flawed couple but so in love. _If only mum had heard that, she'd probably've kissed the guy herself_.

"Pokémon or Digimon?"

"I'm sorry?" Grimmjow asked as Ichigo snapped him out of his thoughts with a question that strayed way off topic. They had just been talking about some really deep shit, and now the guy was asking about kid stuff? Ichigo was an anomaly wrapped in an enigma thrown into a paradox.

"Which did you prefer?"

"Oh…" which did he prefer? Most of his childhood had been spent fighting or helping out his mum around the house, did he really have time to watch cartoons and play games like everyone else? Though he could faintly remember an Agumon, "I think I preferred the show Digimon and the Pokémon games? Not sure though."

"Yeah I can see that, though I had no idea how to play the card games."

"Me neither…" he lied, Grimmjow didn't even know that their were card games. He thought they were just collector items.

"Take the next left," Ichigo commanded as Ggio snored in the back.

Well since the man had asked a random question it was only fair that he got to, "if ya could be any animal in the world, what would ya be?"

"Hmm…possibly a chameleon? Changing colours and having eyes that go in different directions would be interesting. How about you?"

"Well my favourite animal is a panther so, there is your answer. Or maybe even a goat."

The rest of the ride was spent with idle conversation in comparing the advantages of being a panther over a goat. Grimmjow soon found himself parked in front of an olive green apartment building that was hideous to look at. He did find it amusing watching the orange haired man trying to wake the dog up – who was faking being asleep so he didn't have to walk anymore – and then trying to haul the dog out of the vehicle. They exchanged contact information and had promised to do something like this again. Ichigo had said that this wasn't a date but just a strange encounter; Grimmjow had decided to just go with it.

As the man was about to leave Grimmjow stopped him by inviting him to his fight in a few days, it was his last qualifier for Hueco Mundo. Support was always welcomed. All that was given to him was a _maybe_. A promise of a possibility.

* * *

 _The vehicle lost traction with the pavement as the water weakened the tires grip. Joints screeched as the breaks were pressed attempting to write a possible wrong. Metal crunched in an unnatural snarl as the vehicle collide with another causing it to spin madly, the two passengers holding their breaths as the vehicle lost its footing and did a roll._

 _Metal and glass shattered and broke and the car practiced an unholy yoga deforming it. The air bags chose this time to explode making the passenger snap his head back against the seat, knocking the wind from his chest. The world spun for only a minute but it felt like it would never stop, until a tree corrected the wrong of the machine. Somehow the car had flipped back to its upright position, the hood of the car wrapping around the stump of the tree in a lover's embrace._

 _The passenger's airbag deflated enough so that he was able to wiggle out of its hold and open the door. Unsteady legs as adrenaline coursed through his body made standing almost impossible. Collapsing in a puddle he wretched up whatever had been in his stomach, the tears of his face mixing with the pouring rain from the heavens. Even the sky was weeping. Honey brown eyes opened, as they were unsure if stars would blind their vision or not._

 _Stars did not meet his eyes instead a clear parasol rolled in the wind. The transparent plastic distorted body that lay behind it. The woman's limbs contorting like an ungodly origami crane. Red garnet leaking from her mouth as it combined with the street water. The contents of her bag spilled across the street and sidewalk. The umbrella caught wind and took to the sky, escaping this scene of horrors. The woman's eyes open and looking at the young boy, caught between pain, agony, and regret as they bore to his soul._

 _This was always the part when Ichigo would remember screaming to the Gods above._

* * *

 **4:23am**

Ichigo awoke in a cold sweat as the scene of his childhood horror played in his dreams for another night. It had been something he could never escape, the events that lead to that nameless woman's death. Ggio stirred in his sleep as the dog tumbled off the bed. A whine coming from deep in his throat making Ichigo follow the dog as it crashed back onto the ground. Stroking the dog's side soothingly he watched as Ggio began to cough up a ruby red liquid similar to the woman in his dreams, similar to the woman from his past.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there rubbing the animal and comforting it the best he could. Sunlight spilled into his room by the time the old boxer had finished coughing up blood, returning to a restless slumber. This was the first night that Ggio showed signs that he was dying slowly and all Ichigo could do was sooth the animal into it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello all, so sorry for not updating this sooner but life got in the way. Also this chapter is a little shorter than the previous but that's because its a two part thing. Anyways without further ado enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 5

 _In these brief moments, we desire these fights_

 _Part I_

 **Now**

The pain would have been unbearable if the adrenaline wasn't numbing his brain and sending the rest of his body signals to keep fighting. He had fucked up, oh man had he ever fucked up this time around. One small fraction of a second, just one small fraction of a second and the fight had completely turned against him. He had dropped his guard thinking that it would have given him a better chance to dodge at a faster pace and added mobility so that his movements would be more nimble and fluid. Boy was he stupid.

And for his stupidity Grimmjow was hunched over barely conscious holding his broken left arm, white bone piercing the skin. No call had been made for it all happened in such a fast second, those whose eyes were not trained to follow the fights could not see. The crowd only saw him sitting on the cage floor, head unprotected from the impeding fist that was coming his way. The other fighter had seen what he had done but was not the type of man to stop his assault. He hated the weak and was going to punish Grimmjow for being so weak.

Fist connected with jaw and the world turned hot, as his eyes were blurred by stars distorting his vision. Everything turned to darkness as his head hit the floor. Damn he had really fucked up this time.

* * *

 **Then**

His shoulders shook with strain and fatigue as he sat down on the wooden bench, panting while sweat fell from every pore in his body. Fingers protested at the small task of trying to peel off the white tape that had been wrapped around his hands. Slowly he unwraps the tape, heavy breathing as the back of his dry throat tries to inhale as much oxygen as possible. After completing one hand he moves onto the second one, repeating the same process.

The gym had long since been cleared out, Halibel leaving a few hours ago as she needed to go to the doctors in order to check up on the bump that was growing on her stomach. He didn't mind, the owner had given him a spare set of keys long ago after all the equipment and financial contributions that Grimmjow had sent their way. He damn near co-owned the fucking place.

Stretching out his fingers that had been confined by the sticky paper, he walked towards the showers wanting to get rid of the salty grime that covered his skin. He soon found himself under the spray of hot water shampooing his blue hair, massaging his scalp from the residue sweat. His body was next as the soapy hands roamed over his muscle-ridden body. Remaining beneath the shower for a few extra minutes his mind wandered back to a few days ago, to a spitfire strawberry to be exact.

Even if the man claimed that his name was supposed to be read a different way, it still spelt out strawberry. _Ichigo_. If that encounter had proven anything it was that the universe had mysterious ways of working and that Ichigo had a temper or he needed to watch what he said around the man. Though Grimmjow was betting that it was a bit of both. He had forgotten how easy it was to talk to someone, he rarely kept in contact with people and those he did didn't talk about all that much. Except maybe Orihime, but she was a piece of work.

No one had ever really bothered to ask him whether he preferred Digimon or Pokémon and what his favourite animal was. Shit, he had known Ichigo maybe a handful of days and the guy already knew more useless information about him than Ulquiorra. Of course he hadn't really received much communication with the man since they had parted their ways, the occasional text was sent but nothing more affirmative. Their schedules both matched and were complete opposites so it was kind of difficult to keep in touch for the past few days.

Slipping back into the changing room he quickly rubbed down and pulling on his black Calvin Klein underwear. Rotating his left arm in a circular motion the sudden vibrations of his phone made the metal locker shake loudly. Grabbing the device he tapped the green answer icon noticing the strawberry emoji he had assigned to a specific individual.

"Well isn' this a pleasant surprise," Grimmjow answered, his voice immediately holding a teasing tone to it. He had wanted to hear from the berry sometime today, the man had been pretty silent for the better part of the day. He would be dead before he would ever admit it though.

"Hey," said Ichigo as it sounded like he was walking around in a fairly crowded part of town. Of course every part of Tokyo is congested so he could be anywhere, "what are you up to?"

"Just finished sum trainin', probs gonna get some food. How about yourself?"

"Had to take Ggio to the vet," Grimmjow felt his brows furrow at the way the man spoke. It was between exhaustion and utter defeat, not a winning combination. He also had to admit that the old boxer had gotten onto his soft side; the dog looked like an old man how was that not funny?

"Is everything alright?"

"No, not really. He's an old bruiser so it was expected some health issues would arise."

"Are ya alright?"

Balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear, he slipped on some pants and struggled with his belt deciding not to rush or press the matter. He didn't know how the man felt about his adopted pet, "I'm fine," that didn't sound convincing at all, "I have a proposition for you though."

"Oof fancy words, I'm listenin'," Grimmjow teased feeling the man rolling his eyes on the other end.

"Well since our first date didn't go the way you wanted I was wondering if you are doing anything tonight?"

Grimmjow felt his Cheshire smile crawl into place. So Ichigo had thought of it as a date and was propositioning another one? This could be interesting. Of course Halibel had warned him from staying out too late before his fights, but that was not for another day and he could handle the wrath of a pregnant woman, hopefully, "nothin' planned. What do ya have in mind?"

"Secret," more rustling was heard as it sounded like a door being unlocked and keys jangling, "meet me outside of Isetan Department store in Shinjuku at around nine thirty tonight. Also wear something less dressy than when I last saw you."

Isetan Department store was one of the biggest malls in all of Shinjuku, and possibly Japan. Constructed in 1886 it held many foreign and national brands, it's also a headache to shop around in with how clustered Tokyo is. Too many people in one city, "well I waz at a funeral the last time."

"So? Don't be a smart ass, smart ass."

A burst of laughter left his mouth as he held the phone away from the mouth piece, not wanting to blast Ichigo's eardrums out, "fine, fine. I'll see ya in three hours strawberry."

"Don't call me that."

The other disconnected leaving him to the silence of the empty gym. Tossing his phone into his red gym bag, he dressed up in his grey hoodie and locked up the doors behind him. Hopping in his Jaguar he thoughtlessly drove back to his apartment, allowing for his mind to go blank and reflexes to take over. It took him no time at all to return to his apartment complex.

Sliding open the metallic door to his place he kicked off his cyan Nike gym shoes on the welcome mat, sliding the door again to close him off from the outside world. Stepping out of the entrance and into his spacious living room, furnished with white leather couches and a coffee table facing a flat screen TV. The entire eastern wall had been torn out and was replaced by plate glass windows allowing for light to stream in twenty-four seven. Instead of a wall separating the kitchen, Grimmjow had opted for three large black modern bookshelves filled with oddities he had gathered over the years.

He strode through the living room/kitchen and into his bedroom. His sleeping area was fairly lack lustre as all it held his queen-sized bed, a desk that had never really been used and was simply a placeholder for his water cups in the night and laptop, and a worn punching bag. Stripping out of his pants and hoodie, he grabbed a pair of black jeans and a wide neck black shirt. Switching into some fresh red Calvin Klein's, Grimmjow threw everything together with a copper metal band around his left wrist. Taking out a navy blue snap-back from the top shelf of his closet with the initials _TKO_ on them, he flipped it onto his head rim facing the back of his neck.

Grabbing his laptop he settled back into his living room, his little Roomba he had named _Hibiki_ rolling out from underneath one of his couches. Since he had at least two hours to spare before needing to grab a train, Grimmjow decided to putter around on his computer. The sound of Chet Faker soon filled the air as the beats to the song _1998_ made his head bob. During one of his few text conversations with Ichigo the man had mentioned a few artists he was currently listening to, after doing some investigating he had found an odd love for the Australian singer and his calming voice.

After replaying the Chet Faker's album and EP for the second time and being lost in cyberspace from his erratic searches he threw on some black loafers as it was soon time to go and meet the orange haired man in one of the busiest parts of Tokyo. The train took little time as he transferred three times; ignoring the looks he got from strangers as a few blue locks poked out from his hat. He found himself standing at the front entrance; the security guard giving him sideways glances as the man locked the doors behind Grimmjow. Sure he was early by ten minutes, it was the proper thing to do that and if he were asked he would deny it.

"You look completely different wearing a hat," a familiar masculine voice spoke making Grimmjow tilt his head in the direction it had come from. The more Grimmjow saw the orange haired male the more he realized that the man's wardrobe was probably more suited for dimly lit clubs and the nightlife. A wide neck white short sleeve t-shirt looked two sizes too large as one of his shoulders peaked out of the gapping neck of the tee. In black cursive writing _Good Vibes_ took up the center of his shirt. Though his figure was not lost as black skinnies clung to his waste ending at a pair of black loafers similar to his own.

He had to admit the man looked like he was in his element, and really good, "ya look spiffy."

"Same, though you look more handsome in a suite," the orange haired man winked as he pointed down the street indicating to be followed. Grimmjow's smile grew as he fell into line with the other, his hands finding themselves in his pockets, "you hungry?"

"I could go for somethin' quick."

"There is a street vendor up ahead that does some really good yakisoba if you are interested?"

"Works for me!" Grimmjow replied as he and Ichigo entered the crowd, the cluster of people forcing them closer together. There was still enough space so that they weren't physically touching but he could still feel the warmth radiating off of the orange haired man, comforting, "so where are we goin tonight anyways?"

"I'll tell you after we eat,"

"Fair enough. If it's bowlin' I'm refusin', just a FYI."

"What do you have against bowling?" Ichigo laughed, the pair walking with the crowd as they crossed the street.

"I always end up smashin' the floor whenever I go."

"I can actually see that. Fear not, we aren't going bowling. I suck at it anyways."

They came to a stop in front of a yakisoba vender who looked to be just opening shop, hoping to catch the remainder of the work crowd and the youth who were coming out to seize the night. Ichigo ordered a chicken teriyaki combo while Grimmjow decided to grab the beef teriyaki; the meat looking more than questionable. It still tasted good as the pair scarfed it down, each taking a piece of meat from the other and discussing the superior meat; poultry or beef.

"Beef. Without a doubt, no competition."

"Yeah but chicken is like the vodka of meat food group!" Ichigo explained as he threw out his empty Styrofoam plate, "you can do the same things with chick as you can with beef."

"Can't make steak with it."

"Alright that's the only thing!"

"I still say cows are superior," Grimmjow teased as he followed Ichigo down into the subway tunnel. Hoping into a random train that shuttled through the downtown of Tokyo, "so where are we goin?"

"Dancing."

Grimmjow looked down at Ichigo as though he had grown a third head. Second to bowling, dancing was another one of his weaknesses. He had no idea how to move his body in tangent with music, especially if the man was going to take him to some formal ball. Though judging by the attire recommendation, it was probably more of a club scene so at least he wasn't the only one who would look like an idiot. At least the man hadn't chosen a karaoke bar. No one should hear him sing and he did not want to be upstaged by a professional.

"Dancing?"

"Dancing."

"Why dancing?" Grimmjow wanted so desperately to hid the concern in his voice but he wasn't fooling anyone. The cart began to clear giving the pair some breathing space as they leaned against the opposite doors that were opening and closing.

"We need a break," Ichigo said, turning his body so that he could lean against the stained glass of the door along with Grimmjow. Brown eyes met blue as they saw the confusion and panic in them, "it's been…a hell of a day for me. And with all the training you've been doing I think you can spare some time away from beating the shit out of a sandbag.

"Also the guy who is spinning tonight plays easy music to dance to," Ichigo's hand went up to pinch one of Grimmjow's cheeks sending fire in his nerves and leaving a pink spot on his skin. The gesture felt more affectionate than teasing and he instantly desired the contact as soon as it vanished, even if it was so brief, "don't worry I won't leave you."

"That's comfortin'."

They got off at the next stop as they had found themselves on the outskirt of Shinjuku where it bordered on the Shibuya district. Ichigo lead them through the crowds until they were standing in front of a warehouse like building, with a line growing in front of the doors. The trip had taken them roughly two hours after food and some navigation and a train delay. They stood in line behind three girls who appeared to be on some form of LSD. Loud thumping could be heard from outside, wetting the appetite for those who waited in the line.

Grimmjow soon found himself standing in front of a bouncer who ushered he and Ichigo in after kicking the LSD chicks out of the line – they were very obviously stoned. Following the orange hair, Ichigo ordered them three rounds of shots making them go one after the other. He was a little thankful about this; he in no way was going onto the dance floor without at least a little liquid courage. Once the last shot was pounded back – the amber liquids tasting of piss and lost dreams – he felt Ichigo lean into him to try and get his attention.

"How are you feeling?" the man yelled over the speakers a hand coming behind Grimmjow's head as he leaned his head forward.

"Really hot," Grimmjow commented as he the increase in temperature already caused a slight sweat to trickle down his brow. Ichigo smiled a pleased smirk, his breath smelling of the alcohol they had just pounded back.

"Follow me."

Ichigo's hand descended so that it gripped his. Grimmjow's heart raced a fraction as the man led the way, enjoying how their fingers locked together so perfectly. He could only assume the small squeeze from the other was a sign of indulgence as well. They strayed away from the bar pushing past a room that was devoted to tattooing, a woman being inked by a man with purple glasses and pink hair. That could not have been legal. They moved deeper into the large warehouse passing a group of people dancing in front of a prompter showing moving images of colour.

What kind of place was this? They moved through one last door and were blinded by the sudden exposure of flashing and strobe lights as it painted the large dance floor a thousand different colours. The center of the floor itself was crammed with people as bodies moved and pushed in an uncoordinated ritual appearance. The DJ sat behind a turntable as he switched tracks and a remix to Disclosure's _Omen_ began to play earning a cheer from the second floor.

 _I'm feeling something, something different_

 _When you left the picture changed,_

 _I was blinded, not envisioned_

 _The same face in a different frame_

Ichigo pulled him into the crowd as it accepted two more into this strange dance. They pushed their way through grinding bodies, women against men and other women, men touching and moving against the bodies behind them and their partners. No one cared who you danced with, there was no judgement as sweat and animalistic desire took over the brain making them move their hips and flail their arms in the air. Coming to rest near somewhere in the middle Ichigo dropped his hand – Grimmjow already craving for the pressure to return – the man's body beginning to move in time with the music.

 _It's an omen, caught my baby crying_

 _Saw the silver lining_

 _It must be an omen_

 _Needed you to show me, without you I am lonely_

He stood still for a while, watching the way the different colour lighting dyed the man's hair, how his body moved in sync with the music, and how easy Ichigo made it look. The orange haired man spun around catching Grimmjow off-guard at just how _free_ Ichigo looked. The man's eyes were closed but the smile that was on his face was so beautiful that Grimmjow felt himself suck in a deep breath of hot air. Honey eyes opened, demanding why he wasn't dancing.

Complying Grimmjow began to move his hips and his legs doing some sort of stepping pattern. Ichigo looked as though he was about to laugh but refrained from it as the pair moved to the rhythm of the symphonic and beats. The remix built up the chorus and bridges making the crowd move as one, he and Ichigo moving closer together as everyone pressed. Other bodies danced around them but they drained out as he lost himself in those honey eyes.

 _My mind would rule my heart_

 _I didn't pay attention to the light in the dark_

 _It left me torn apart_

 _But now I see you're just an omen_

The distance was closed between them with a push from someone behind Grimmjow, his hips meeting Ichigo's. Looking down at the man, their hips soon found a steady rhythm and pace they could follow as they ground their pelvises together. His arms soon found themselves on the other's side as they held and moved the other's body to the sound of the music. Ichigo's arms wrapped around his shoulders his eyes never leaving the blue orbs before him. The world went silent around them as they continued to move, each getting lost in the heat and the skin contact. Each sinking into the never-ending pool of wonder that hid behind the coloured irises. Each wishing for this song to keep playing, and the moment to freeze-frame.

 _Oh, oh, oh, oh_

 _Oh, oh, oh, omen_

Grimmjow trailed a hand over Ichigo's soft lips, his calloused thumb feeling the indulgent texture of those lips. A small smile grew on Grimmjow's face as he noticed the slightest colour distortion of the man's face, blushing? He had to admit he was being more careful and passionate then he usually was with his partners. Halibel had rarely seen this side of him; of course the woman had never taken him dancing either. So what was so different with Ichigo?

 _Oh, oh, oh, oh_

 _Oh, oh, oh, omen_

The moment was seized as he leaned forward and captured those lips that were presented to him. Maybe it was the liquid courage or possibly the lust that filled the air, intoxicating them. His hand gripping the orange hair behind the man's head, craning the other's head upward as their lips moved in unison. Teeth came out and bit down on his lower lip, playfully teasing Grimmjow and plaguing his mind with lewd thoughts. He pressed harder into the kiss as thoughts of whether Ichigo would leave bites over his naked body like the way he bit his lip.

Mouths opened as tongues met, tasting each other as they tried to fight for dominance. Lips returned together but this time softer and gentler. Yes, they had become those people who kiss on the dance floor. Though this crowd didn't seem to care at all, as many other couples were probably doing the same thing. Pulling away for air, Grimmjow looked down into half-lidded eyes filled with lust and desire. It had taken them one song just one song. What the hell were they doing?

They hadn't notice that the tracks had changed until some space had been cleared on the floor. Breaking apart a fraction, they returned to dancing. However they did not stop holding each other's hands for the remainder of the DJ's set. When they had deemed it late enough, Grimmjow took lead as his bulk and muscle easily cleared a path for them. Once outside he took out a cigarette and lit the stick deeply sucking in the toxic fumes.

"Enjoy yourself?"

"That was entertaining," Grimmjow pondered taking in more of the smoke, respiring it through his nostrils. Rolling the cig between his fingers, watching the small red burn travel down the white paper, "do you usually bring your dates out to somewhere like this?"

"No," Ichigo answered, the man was stretching out his long legs while his eyes were looking at the pedestrians on the other side of the street. Ichigo's face turned towards Grimmjow, brown eyes holding a quizzical look to them, and "I don't normally do the whole dating thing, not very good at it. I mostly just stick to friends-with-benefits or the occasional hook-up," Grimmjow felt an eyebrow raise, though he had no right to judge since he did the exact same but, "oh, don't give me that look."

"Sorry, it's jus most people don' really share that kind of stuff on a date…I think. Been a while since I've done this myself."

"See what I mean! Sex is just sex and is sometimes easier than this."

"Well put."

The noises of the night filled in the gap of their conversation; taxis honking, the youthful cheers and laughter of the young University relieving their stress, and the occasional dog bark. Tokyo was many things but never silent. Flicking his cigarette into a storm drain Grimmjow brushing his hands down his pants, the denim fabric tickling the palms of his hands. He could feel brown eyes on him but he did not meet their gaze, just at that moment. Checking his phone he looked down to see three messages from Halibel and two from Ulquiorra, both probably warning him to get as much sleep as possible before the fight in two days.

"When do you need to be back by?"

"Honestly," Grimmjow began, shoving his phone back into his pocket, "I was supposed ta be in bed a few hours ago."

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot about your fight!"

"Nah s'all good. All I've been doing is training, its good ta get out for at least one night."

"Sure that won't ruin your chances?"  
"Doubtin' me?" Grimmjow asked, a playful expression making the orange haired man smile.

"Never," Ichigo responded; his voice so sure of those words while his eyes held a twinkle of promise and wonder. What secrets hid behind those brown eyes and why were they pulling him in so easily? Ichigo was like a current, pushing the river forward a slow pace that slowly erodes away at the ground leaving a scar in the earth, "there is one more place that I wanted to go for tonight."

"More dancing?"

"Definitely."

"More club goers and alcohol?"

"Probably not but there could be," Ichigo pondered as he watched a girl in heels stumble through the crowd before spilling her guts out in a garbage bin. Poor thing, "not a lot of people know about this place though, but it's still fairly popular."

"An oxymoron?"

The man stood brushing the ground off his ass before outstretching his hand, "you'll just have to see for yourself."

* * *

 **Now**

The text message wasn't his preferred option of telling Grimmjow that he wouldn't be able to attend the fight, but it was the most convenient method. Ichigo didn't know if calling the man would've been any better, regardless cancelling last minute like this was still a dick move no matter if he called or messaged him. He'd just have to explain to the man later why he wasn't able to watch him beat the snot out of the man's opponent.

Getting up from the uncomfortable green and black cushioned chair that filled the walls of the waiting room of the veterinary office, he walked past the vet tech - playing secretary - behind the front desk into the revolving doors. The woman barely gave him a glance, concentrating on some files and the magazine that lay before her. The push doors did a good job at holding back the scent of anaesthetic from the waiting room; bright lights shone in the fairly bleak room.

Walls holding cupboards of surgical instruments and other kinds of medical apparatuses, while the only two things that caught the eye were skeletal diagrams of cats and dogs and of course the metal surgical table. Cold, painful, it made Ichigo uncomfortable just looking at it. He couldn't even begin to think how Ggio felt as the dog lay motionless, heart monitors and other strange machines attached to the dog, an IV feeding him liquids to keep the dog hydrated.

The dog was unaware of his presence; Kira – the neighbour and vet – had dosed the dog with enough sedatives to have it knocked out for the next few hours. The cancer had spread rapidly after the death of Ggio's owner – probably due to stress and depression – everyone was expecting this. But why did it have to be so soon? Ichigo moved his hand over dog's side; stroking the coarse fur that was a beautiful brindle he had come to love.

"Will it be painful?" he almost dared not ask it, but he had to know. There was already so much pain for the animal: walking, jumping, and the past week even eating looked like it hurt.

"No, there will be no pain," Kira spoke as he looked over the charts one last time. A large needle with a blue looking liquid at his side, "he's so heavily tranquilized that he probably doesn't feel anything right now," he continued placing the clipboard on a table behind him. Rubbing his tired eyes the vet began talking again, "for what it's worth Mr. Kurosaki, I think it was noble what you did."

"I never had a dog growing up or any animals for that matter. Well two little sisters but only the one would act like an animal. It was nice having him around, maybe having him put my inner child to rest finally?"

"Do you think you'd ever get your own dog after this?" asked Kira.

"Fuck no, this is hard enough and he's not even mine," responded Ichigo as his hand went up to rub his sore eyes. This fucking sucked, for such an odd reason his heart felt like it was trying to support cinderblocks chained around it. He promised Ggio that he wouldn't cry, that he would smile for the animal to remember how much fun they had. Like it cared what Ichigo did in its final moments.

"Do you mind if I sing a something for him?" Ichigo asked, his eyes opening to meet Kira's curious gaze. Great now the vet thought he was a weirdo, "Bruce Springsteen always seemed to settle him down. I think his old owner used to play a lot of Bruce."

"Of course."

The man picked up the needle, the sharp tip puncturing the valve of the IV. Blue liquid mixed with the clear hydrating fluid. Ichigo's hand never stopped stroking Ggio's side as the blue entered the dog's body setting out to do its job; to put an end to all the animal's suffering.

" _Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold, but with you forever I'll stay. Where goin' out where sands turnin' to gold, but put on your stockins baby cause the nights gettin' cold_ ," Ichigo's voice filled the room singing his favourite verse from one of the few Springsteen songs he could remember. The heart monitor spiked as Ggio's breathing began to increase as the blue liquid started to take effect in the dog's system.

" _And everything dies, baby that's a fact, but maybe everything dies someday comes back_."

A line drew where once spikes protruded on the green line of the heart monitor as zeros filled the spaces where different numbers once were. The animal took his last breath, his body calm and relaxed as Ichigo's voice finished; a smile on his lips as tears rolled down his cheeks his hand still affectionately stroking the dog's side. Kira removed the IV and heart monitor from the dead body before leaving the room, leaving Ichigo alone to a deafness he could not explain.

* * *

 **Then**

He followed the orange haired man up the stairs of an office building that overlooked one of Shinjuku's many shopping malls. He hadn't even thought of the repercussions when Ichigo had explained that they were going to break into a building, thinking back on it maybe he should have suggested just staying at the club. At least there he was only at risk of getting his feet stepped on which wouldn't lead to jail time. Still he followed and he dared not admit just how much this thrilled him.

The building looked like a plain office building where people with mundane ambitions would go and talk by the water cooler on their lunch breaks and share group emails. Ichigo pulled him up eighteen flights of stairs – which was a little excessive – but as they reached the roof he could hear what sounded like a band playing. Two girls in pencil skirts clinging to each other for support cut them off, each wearing a bunny mask chuckling at the two men before them. Without missing a beat the girls handed Ichigo sparklers and Grimmjow a neon green glow stick. Blue eyes looked down at Ichigo who just shrugged as he pushed open the door.

What stood before them was a sight of wonder, like how the fuck was it even possible? A medium sized group of people were dancing as a band played music fairly loudly. Some people were in masks others were letting their joy show as they laughed and smiled all dancing along to the band.

"How is this even possible?" asked Grimmjow, his expression disbelieving all the while his shit-eating grin not leaving his face.

"Beats me? I think your friend Ichimaru has something to do with it though," Ichigo explained as he pulled Grimmjow into the crowed. The people making room for the new comers as the band begun to play an uplifting song that was easy to dance to.

"Of course he does," Grimmjow said as he began to sway to the song. It was something about heartbeats and breaking up but it was sung to be so heartening that it made one forget that it's about a hook-up gone wrong.

No one seemed to know the lyrics to the song but everyone was just moving to it like they all had one goal in mind; forget. Forget about everything as natural instincts took over their bodies following the sounds and noises that instruments were making for them. Sparklers and glow sticks were being raised creating the illusion of stars above the Tokyo sky. Everywhere he looked Grimmjow could see neon greens, blues, yellows, and oranges accompanied by sparkling flares it was picturesque.

Spinning around back so he could see the front of him, the crowd around him began to clap along with lead singer as the guitarist began his solo. There are moments in ones life that are so beautiful that they can only be called art, these are the moments that become immortal in one's mind. Before him was one of these moments; Ichigo stood before him, facing away from the band sparklers in the air, eyes closed, a smile on his face as he bounced and danced to the rifts of the guitar. His hair the colour of a burning forest fire beneath the false stars, he looked so free.

For the second time tonight Grimmjow ignored the world around him as time slowed down. Leaning forward he captured Ichigo's lips, not wanting the opportunity to pass. Electricity coursed through his veins as the singers voice came back and the crowd cheered and sung along to the chorus. Soft lips returned the kiss as the spark shocked between them; a realization that in these brief moments they understand every single mystery to the universe. Pulling apart was difficult, blue eyes meeting brown, a smile on either of their faces.

Both of them wishing that this night would never end, it's moments like this that give them false hope that things can be better.

* * *

 **Well that just happened. Hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. I just want to say thank you to all who have been reading this and to all who have left a review. It means a lot that you have taken time out of your lives to read my little creation. Part 2 will be coming soon!**

 **I do not own the rights to:**

 **-Omen (feat. Sam Smith): Disclosure**

 **-Atlantic City: Bruce Springsteen**

 **Thank you.**


	6. Chapter 6

**It is finally here, enjoy**.

* * *

Chapter 6

 _In these brief moments, we desire the fight_

 _Part 2_

* * *

The world was painted in neon lasers and black lighting giving everything an eerie purple glow to it. Speakers thumbed and whooped making the floor shake and the bodies in the crowd vibrate, everyone's skin being tickled from the sound waves. It was a typical Friday night at Hollows, everyone escaping their work week wanting to kill some off the stress of the upcoming week. Ichigo was just providing the service they need, mindless beats that looped one after another so that the people could drink, snort their rails, and dance.

It was routine for him, he wasn't even paying attention to which remixes he played anymore his mind was so far away. The crowd of people were just a backdrop, a complete white noise to his senses even though he could still feel eyes on him. Eyes that held lust and wonderment, many people wanted to sleep with the DJs of Hollows, that was no secret and many tried. But he wasn't Renji, he wasn't indiscriminate with who he took home anymore.

Ignoring those eyes he fidgeted with his MacBook as he prepared for his outro, tonight he had asked Yammi if he could be the opener – the man didn't care any less – there was somewhere he had to get to. That and his usual crew weren't working tonight. Renji was working one of his other jobs, Shuuhei supposedly got a gig as a bartender at a host club, and Ichigo didn't know where the fuck Rukia was. Needless to say he didn't feel like sticking around any longer than he was required. A strong grip of loneliness had clutched him since the day that Ggio was put down, and even in a club filled with close to two hundred people, he still felt isolated.

Closing his laptop he shuffled off the stage and into the back room where he collected his coat and messenger bag. With a quick goodbye to the other DJs – whose names he hadn't even bothered to learn – he left into the night, heading back to his apartment where he would hopefully get a decent sleep. His feet carried him to the trains that took him home in a blur. Soon he was laying in his bed eyes closed in a restless sleep.

His mind wander on many things that night, dreams of parasols rolling in the streets as old dogs chased after them. He could remember clearly walking in the streets of Karakura Town with Ggio, stopping at the local café he would frequent with Orihime and the rest of his high school friends. But what made him ache in his stomach was the warm hand he held as he pulled someone through a field of barely leading to a bunch of rocks that stood in the centre of the meadow; somewhere he had visited during his youth. Blue eyes always watching him.

These were not dreams of content as they made him feel neither rested nor tired when Ichigo woke up. Curled up in a ball, a few stray lights of sun creeping across his floor. There was something that he had to do today, his last good deed to both Ggio and the old man that once owned and cared for him. Throwing on some jeans and a grey tank top Ichigo went through his morning routine before he stepped back into the sunlit world, carrying a vase with the ashes of Ggio.

He took the train until it reached the stop that was just a short distance from the cemetery he had bumped into Grimmjow. Walking up he knocked on the window of the front office, trying to get the attention of one of the summer students siting behind the desk. One with a zit noticeable from a mile away came to the door, looking rather irritated as though Ichigo was wasting his time by making him do his job.

"Can I help you?" asked the acne ridden youth. Ichigo internally cringed at just how bad that pimple looked. Had this kid never heard of soap and water? Simple enough process and it didn't take very long to wash your face.

"Yeah I was wondering who do I have to speak with to get a shovel."

"A shovel?" the boy asked, facing looking perplexed. Scratching at his face as he thought of the answer or deciding whether or not to call the cops on the suspicious male who wanted a shovel for the obvious purpose of digging in a graveyard. Deciding it wasn't worth his time the boy responded, "you'd have to ask the old grounds keeper. He's usually roaming the grounds or in the maintenance shack."

"Okay, how do I get to the maintenance shack?"

"Just follow the main road than turn left into the older section, it'll be at the very far end beside an oak tree," the boy responded as he turned going back to doing whatever. Spinning on his feet Ichigo headed towards the direction he had been told, he was about to turn left when he heard a squeaky voice over his shoulder, "just please don't dig up any graves!"

Waving his hand in the air he wandered through the old area admiring the clusters of traditional Japanese graves, some held burning incents with flowers while others had colourful origami figures. Typical, and was probably a reoccurring theme across all graveyards of the world. He didn't study the limestone blocks; some small an meagre belonging to possibly poorer families while others appeared as miniature cenotaphs to people that were once important, now lost names to time. Names of families carved in kanji while the living spouses name were painted in red, though much of the red had faded or appeared to have been washed away.

Giving a solemn bow Ichigo picked up his pace a little, not being the biggest fan of reading the names' of the dead. To him it felt as though it were an invasion of his privacy, as though he were learning a piece of someone who could not receive any knowledge back. His goat-faced farther would always say to him how the reciprocation of knowledge was what made the world go around. It was stupid but it's how he was raised.

The cement began to turn a lighter grey as the asphalt showed the age of the section he was in. People were probably being buried here since World War 2, cracks in the ground were patched over but the cemetery did not invest in repaving the ground, it was obvious that not many people were visiting these graves any more. Instead of destroying the resting place of the dead they simply let nature take its course. Ichigo found the oak tree where the pavement ended, the tree was probably older than some of the graves here as it towered throwing shade across the ground. At it's base lay a Shinto shrine, an old clay bowl sat in the centre holding rainwater as birds bathed and flew around it.

An old man sat beneath the tree, skin brown and leathered from working bellow the sun for many decades. There was a gentle air to him as Ichigo approached noticing that the man had a small pile of bird feed beside him while he penciled away at Sudoku puzzles. However when Ichigo approached he was surprised to see that the man was not filling in the square boxes with numbers but instead was colouring them in. Creating intricate patterns with triangles, squares, and diamonds that formed arrangements of arrows and interlocking shapes. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

"When I was a young man I wanted to see the west so badly," the old man spoke in a soft voice that sound almost like a croak. An old hand patted the shaded grass beside him hinting for Ichigo to sit down, like there was no rush in the world, "so I hopped on a ship and left for Thailand without telling my mother or father or brothers. I had no money on me and nothing of value; I was a stupid young boy who hid beneath a train cart to cross into the Soviet Union. That in itself could have killed me.

"With a bit of luck an possibly the laziness of the border patrol I snuck into the Ukraine's capital of Kiev. I had never seen so much cabbage and potatoes in my entire life. I hitched hiked north to a village just outside of Lviv who had never seen a Japanese man. There I worked for a farmer who grew wheat so gold that it looked like the Gods had painted it to the earth. His daughter would make patterned quilts that she would sell in the market for extra money so that she could buy sugar and Belgian chocolates.

"She gave me one quilt as a gift and as a token of her love. I had loved her since the moment I laid my eyes on her. But her father and mother would not have their talented daughter marry a silly Japanese man who could not even speak their language. So one night she packed some food and her sowing needles and threads and we fled the country as fast and as quietly as possible. We took longer to return to Japan because we were so afraid of the Russians discovering us, we used only the stars as navigation at some points."

The man paused as he finished the star design he'd been working on before closing the book and handing it over to Ichigo, "the Koreas were just about to declare war upon each other by the time that we had gotten back into Japan. My mother was so disgusted with me that I had left and returned with a pregnant foreign woman. Father had passed away and my brothers could care less what I did. My family turned us away that day. But it was meant to be. So I found a job working in this graveyard and she would make her quilts and sell them to new mothers for extra money."

"What was her name?" Ichigo asked as he waited for the man to continue his story but got nothing. This had been the second time he had been told a story of someone of Japanese descent falling in love with a foreigner. But he could not stop himself from listening so intently.

"Her name was Katya and she was the love of my life. She did not make many friends here as she struggled with the language to her passing moments, and I knew that she wanted nothing more to see her father's golden fields again. But she stuck with me until the day that the cancer took her life. I draw the patterns she used to sow in books sometimes, it's a small reminder of her."

"I think it's beautiful."

The man smiled an old and wrinkled smile that lit up his whole worn face. Ichigo could only assume how few people had stayed to listen to his story, and how much he wanted for them to listen to how dearly he had loved his wife. Was it hard loving someone that made your whole family turn your back on you? And once that person was gone how lonely were you. These were only things that Ichigo could ask as he had no idea what kind of answer he would get. But sitting beneath an oak tree listening to an old man's story was the most favourable outcome he could imagine.

"What can I help you with kid?"

"I'm looking for a shovel," Ichigo responded honestly as both he and the old man stood up, shaking the grass from their ass. The birds that had fluttered down to the bird feed took to the air, chirping angrily as their lunch had been interrupted.

The old man raised an eyebrow but his face remained neutral with very little concern appearing, "you aren't going to defile the grave of someone whose family scorned you are you?"

"No, why would I do that?"

"Just checking. I had a lady come here once asking for a shovel so she could break the tomb of her ex-husband's dead mother."

"No, no. I'm here to bury the ashes of someone's dog before the owner's grave."

"Why's that?"

"It's a long story," Ichigo responded as he followed the old man to a shack that was hidden behind the oak tree, "and I'm not even sure you'd believe me if I told you."

"Try me kid."

* * *

Grimmjow sat in the hospital bed staring down at the white cast, wrapped around his broken arm. Shit, it had only been on for a week and all he could think about was just how satisfying it would be to scratch his skin. Goddamn this fucking thing made his arm itchy. After the fight with Nnoitra "Mantis" Jiruga he was immediately brought to the hospital for surgery to push the bone that had been jutting out of his skin back under the membrane. From what Ulquiorra had told him it had been two days straight of surgery to take out bone fragments that had splintered into the muscle tissue and gently reset the bone so that the marrow could be heal properly.

As fascinated he had been about all the juicy details of his arm operation, his mind had been given some heavy news to process. Though the doctors had done an amazing job at reworking the bone there was a fair possibility that he would never be able to fight again. However this was only a small chance as the doctors had also been thankful that he was in such great shape. They told both he and Halibel to take a year off and push such a hard regime at the beginning. Of course the blonde haired woman had said fuck to that and mind over matter would get him to recover faster.

So this brought him back to his present issue of pure boredom and very little to distract him. CandyCrush had gotten him so worked up that Halibel had to take the phone away from him to save the poor mobile device from being tomahawked across the room at the wall. He had also gone through the books that were given to him by his three visitors. Ulquiorra and Halibel were useless as one brought an autobiographical piece of some dead European painter who Grimmjow couldn't give a rat's ass about while the other brought a self-help book. Thank god for Starrk as the man brought him some comic books and manga to numb his brain and even an interesting book written by a prolific Japanese author.

These could only distract him for so long though as he was used to doing things with his hands to entertain himself, whether it be working out or what have you. So for most of the days he would look out the window at the blue sky seeing the occasional seagull fly by the window. This left time for him to think about lots of things and fuck did he hate to think. Most of it was about what he would do if he couldn't ever fight again, how would he earn a decent income? The thought of becoming a personal fitness instructor made him want to eat the end of a gun. Not a positive chain of thought.

And he hated to admit it but he would sometimes catch himself thinking about Ichigo. The little fuck hadn't come to visit him once. Not to mention the Strawberry had stood him up on fight night, prick. But that still didn't stop Grimmjow from thinking of that orange hair and snappy attitude. Hell he would even think of that old bag of bones that the Berry was looking after. Grimmjow had always been semi impartial to dogs since he'd grown up with a fat white cat, but Ggio had managed to worm his way into the man's heart. Maybe that's why he hadn't come to the hospital? What a fucking dumb reason.

"Knock, knock," a rough voice chimed from the door way catching Grimmjow's attention and bringing his thoughts away from Ichigo. Halibel slowly walked into the room taking a seat in one of the visitor's chairs.

"Thank god, you are here. I was startin' to—" Grimmjow stopped himself as he took a closer look at his training instructor. The beautiful woman's face looked swollen, as her eyes were red rimmed and puffy like she had been crying, "—Hal is everythin' okay?"

"No…not really," Halibel began as she folded a piece of tissue paper in her hands over, crumpling it and stretching it out again. Grimmjow did not rush her, letting her gather her words. It was very rare for this woman to lose her composure; she didn't even bat an eyelash when she ended things with him. With a deep breath she begun again, "I lost her Grimm…"

"Ya lost who?" asked Grimmjow as he propped himself to get a better look at the woman. It was only when he saw that one of her hands had moved over her stomach that the dots connected, "oh no…shit Hal I'm…I'm so sorry."

"She…"

"You don' have ta say anythin' if ya don' want ta."

"No, talking about her makes things easier."

Halibel stood, staggering over to the edge of the hospital bed. Dabbing her face with the tissue to wipe away the fresh tears, Grimmjow sat up more so that he could rub her back. With a heavy sigh she continued, "I have something called a uterine septum. I never told Starrk about this but…it's an abnormality in my uterus's shape that makes it hard for the fertilized egg to attach to the uterine wall. This was why it took so long for me to actually conceive. We almost tried In Vitro…but she made it but she wasn't getting enough nourishment. She couldn't survive in me."

Grimmjow did nothing but listen to her, her voice only a whisper as it physically pained her to speak of her miscarriage. How fresh was this? How fresh was this wound she was carrying, who had she told? He couldn't even think of what she was going through. So instead he closed his mouth and let her continue as his hand drew circles on her back trying ever so hard to comfort her.

"My Lilynette…she's gone…"

"Have ya told Starrk yet?" Grimmjow asked after a moment of silence. He felt the weight of her head rest upon his shoulder as both looked out the window at the blue sky, a flock of seagulls hovering in the air.

"No not yet, I don't know how I can break it to him," Halibel spoke, "this isn't the first time I've miscarried. He was so excited when I told him about our little Lily. Now she's gone. I just don't know what to tell him."

"I can' help ya with that Hal…"

"I don't want to hurt him again," Halibel whimpered as tears had started rolling down her cheeks again collecting on Grimmjow's shoulder, "he doesn't even know about the other two."

Grimmjow's hand stopped circling as a jolt ran through his entire body. His eyes widened for a fraction as the true torturous demons came out. How heavy was this burden upon her soul? Her body rejecting her true desires to start a family with the man she loved the most in the world. The entire would around them turned stale and the bright blue of the sky turned a shade grayer and the sounds of the hospitals were almost muted. What could he say to her when all he was thinking about was that he could've been in Starrk's place? He was a selfish prick but in these seconds that was his entire mind could think about.

They sat in silence for a while before Halibel stood up and handed Grimmjow the weekly Jump that Starrk had gotten him. Thanking her, she left on a silent note leaving Grimmjow alone with his thoughts. The world felt heavy on him as he lay back down to take a quick nap that stretched on for a longer period of time than he expected. When he awoke a new visitor had taken residence in his room, as the figure with fire orange hair sat on the window ledge looking out at something. Ichigo, fucking great. Today was not the day for a spontaneous visit from someone he had been dreading seeing.

He looked angelic the way the fading sun his summer-tanned skin, illuminating the orange tips to yellow. His small line of freckles over his nose becoming more noticeable in the evening light, his teeth worrying his bottom lip, his hand playing with the Jump that Halibel had brought him. Grimmjow was taking in everything he could about Ichigo, and he wasn't sure why but whenever they were together he could feel something in him moving. Like magma scorching across the earth, slow but vicious. It was only then that he noticed the ear buds the man was wearing and the song that the man was singing.

" _Caught in this pool held in your eyes, caught like a fool without a line_ ," the man sang in near perfect English. Grimmjow's voice caught in his throat as he listened intently. It had been a while since he heard Ichigo singing and he could not interrupt this for the life of him, " _We're in a natural spring, with this gentle sting caught between us_. _I wanna make this play…oh, I know you're faded…hmm…but stay, don't close your hand_. _Stay open…stay open…_ "

Eyes like warm honey looked down at a small square device that he held in his hands before noticing that he was being looked at. For a moment neither said anything as their eyes locked, trying to figure what would be the best thing to say next. Should he be pissed at the man for not visiting sooner and missing his fight? Or should he just be relieved at seeing the person whose been haunting his thoughts for the past days? Grimmjow could not make the words fit into a sentence that would convey how pissed and happy he was.

"I signed your cast since no one else had seized the opportunity," said Ichigo as he broke the silence. Grimmjow looked down to see Ichigo's name written in black marker with the doodle of fat cat beside his name, "I asked the nurse if it was okay to draw on the thing, she said it was fine."

"Thanks I guess?" respond Grimmjow as he lowered his arm.

The man stood from the windowsill, sitting down in one of the visitor chairs – that he had moved before hand – he took a sharpie and begun to doodle more on the cast, "I don't think I've ever heard of someone's arm breaking like this from a fight before."

"The doctors seemed pretty in shock from what I was told," responded Grimmjow cursing himself as his voice sounded distant and uncaring. Though Ichigo didn't seem to be backing away, "Next time I see that Jiruga cunt I'm going ta break his balls."

"That probably won't be any time soon. He was disqualified from Hueco Mundo for – quote 'the brutality of the fight which led to the severe injury of another fighter' unquote – last I heard he's been banned from fighting all together."

"How did ya hear about this?"

"Renji was in the crowd during your fight. He's actually a pretty big fan of yours—"

"Why weren' ya there?" he had done it; leapt right at the beast's throat to see what excuse this man would come up with. Grimmjow had heard the challenge in his voice and his face met it with a deadpan expression of determination. Was he acting like a sulking child whose parents had shown up to his school performance? Absolutely.

Ichigo met his gaze with both confusion and a hint of irritation. They were both very stubborn men and when push came to shove Grimmjow knew that neither would back down. But something always gave, it was just a question as who would break first, "I told you that I wouldn't be able to make it."

"By a fuckin text message, didn' have the courtesy ta even call me?"

"What is it to you?" anger spread across Ichigo's face in a flaring blush as his eyes turned a shade darker.

"I want ta know why ya didn' come! Shit I always drop everythin for your spontaneous bullshit and yet ya can't make it ta one of my fights?"

"Would it have made a difference?"

"…What?"

"Would it have made a fucking difference if I had gone? Or would you still have gotten your ass beat and ended up in this hospital bed."

Grimmjow couldn't stop himself, as all his pent up rage spilled out into his words that he hoped would cut like a knife. He was mad. He was resentful for being stuck in this bed, for being disqualified from Hueco Mundo, for being ditched, at anything and he wanted to aim this knife right at Ichigo, "yes it would've made a fuckin' difference ta me. But your to self-involved ta see that, aren' ya."

Ichigo stood dropping the marker to the ground and sending the chair skidding back. He had gone and done it, his stomach turned to a knot as pain spread across Ichigo's face. No, it was almost as worse as physical pain, what crossed his face was betrayal but he couldn't stop himself, "just because you're a miserable prick doesn't give ya the right ta be a little bitch ta others."

"I'm not the one acting like a little bitch."

The iPod Ichigo had been holding was flung at Grimmjow, connecting with the man's forehead in an almost comical way. He definitely deserved that. There was too much pride between the two of them to retract what he had said, or to stop Ichigo from walking out the door. Without a second glance he was gone, and Grimmjow was again left alone in a bare hospital room. A sigh escaped his lips as he placed the ear buds into each ear and pressed play, listening to song after song that Ichigo had put onto the iPod. It wasn't until he felt complete exhaustion he noticed that he'd been listening to a playlist entitled _Grimmjow's Get Better List_. Damn he was a prick.

* * *

Three days had passed since Ichigo walked out on Grimmjow in the hospital and the orange haired man refused to reach out to the other. No one had ever gotten under his skin so quickly before, not even his sisters. But that blue haired fuck had completely shocked him when the man directed all the pent up anger at losing the fight towards him. Fucking perfect. Maybe he should've called instead of dropping a text message on the man, it was fairly rude after all. But that still did not warrant such an explosion.

It was clear that he was not as invested in working tonight as his beats were mediocre at best, but the crowd didn't seem to clear as Ichigo wasn't the main event. Vizard was owned by a man who reminds Ichigo of a possum; Hiroka Shinji. The man had an alternative style of cutting his long blonde hair and the man's toothy smile put Ichigo on edge, he smiled like he was hiding multiple secrets and making even more calculated decisions on how to earn a profit. And boy did the man know how to make a profit; Vizard was a neo-club that was only just starting to gain traction. The difference that set Vizard apart? It was a semi illegal fighting arena that would pit those who couldn't fight in Tokyo's legit fighting rink for reasons.

Ichigo only spun here once every two months on the account of his fear that the place would get raided at any moment. Vizard had a reputation of being a high drug trafficking club along with the illegal fights that went on. Though they still had the same kind of rules as Hueco Mundo would. Staying away was always smart but Shinji paid good money for good DJs and Ichigo never spun for more than five hours as Shinji liked to have variety on his busiest nights.

The crowd wasn't hoped up on adrenaline from the music Ichigo was playing; tonight was a double event in the arena that only garnered more profit and a bigger more diverse crowd. Still some people danced so his job wasn't yet done. The remix to GTA's _Red Lips_ boomed loudly through the speakers as Ichigo took on a more EDM vibe when he was pissed at the world. The people didn't seem to mind in fact the probably preferred it to the dance music Ichigo normally played. The beats wound down as the male's vocals faded into the beat.

The brightness made everyone on the dance floor flinch slightly as the lights that hung over the square fighting arena lit up showing a skinny man with a wide smile and cropped blonde hair; Hiroka Shinji himself. The crowd pressed inward trying to get as close to the ring as possible. Shinji held a microphone in his hands spinning around making the crowd go wild, he looked like the ringleader at a fucking circus. The man was also one for the flare of drama.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Vizard…" Shinji commenced walking around the ring in a circle making sure to address all who came to his club, "tonight we have a very special fight for you. Oh and how excited I am for you; we have a returning champ hoping to make another splash like she has in the past. We also have a little spitfire hoping to move up in the world of fighting."

Stepping down from the DJ podium Ichigo sauntered over to gain a better view at the ring while staying well away from the crowd. Ending up at the less occupied second level of the club, he leaned over the banister beside two university students who looked like virgins to the fighting. Shinji's voice carried throughout the entire club as the man announced the competitors, "in the right corner stands a man with a punch so devastating it's been nicknamed 'Jackpot Knuckles' for all the lucky K.O.s it inflicts. Please give a warm welcome to…Shishigawara Moe!"

The crowd roared as a short male with a faux hawk stepped out into the lane way, chest exposed with revealing a sweaty torso that illuminated the man's well-defined muscles. Ichigo rolled his eyes as the man hyped up the crowd like some little shit who was treating this like a national event. Douche bag.

"And in this corner the returning queen of the ring! A crowd favourite, a total bombshell, the Tiburón herself! Tier Halibel!"

Ichigo eyes widened as the familiar figure he had seen with Grimmjow before walk out and into the light. Her blonde hair highlighting her vivacious green eyes while her tanned skin made her look like a Greek Goddess. The crowd was almost silent as they watched her walk towards the ring, Ichigo could not stop himself as he whispered "holy shit," before reaching for his phone.

"Moe isn't actually going to fight a chick is he?" asked one of the university students who looked as dumbfounded as Ichigo internally felt.

"If he's smart he you bet your ass he fucking will," responded the other, taking a long sip of his beer, eyes transfixed on Halibel as she stretched and prepared for the fight. Moe was currently chatting with Shinji, possibly trying to find a way out of fighting a woman.

"What do you mean?"

"Because smart money is on the skinny bitch."

Ichigo stepped away from where he had been standing to a quieter area of the club as the crowd started to hype up again probably from Shishigawara doing some douchy thing that the crowd ate up. Without hesitation Ichigo hit Grimmjow's number on his contacts list, the man must be out of the hospital by now and wasn't doing anything very important. It still took Ichigo two calls, the second almost going to voicemail before the man answered.

"Ichi?" the man's husky voice rang through the speaker sending a shiver down Ichigo's back. Damn he hadn't realized how much of an effect the man had on his nerves, "Ichigo are you drunk?"

"What…no? What makes you think that?" shocked at the question was a bit of an understatement, though it all clicked as the club had gotten a bit louder and after how they had left things off it was a logical explanation. But he was almost offended at the man's assumption, he wasn't a heartbroken ex looking for answers, "no I just finished doing a gig."

"Ahh…I should've known," a long yawn stretched out between them. Ichigo hadn't even considered the time since he was used to late hours like this.

"Probably, but that's not important right now," Ichigo continued rubbing his face as he moved past two guys throwing up beside a speaker, "I was doing a show at Vizar—"

"Do not tell me you're workin' were I think ya are."

He almost flinched at the threatening tone that came from the speaker. Pushing the door that lead to a back alley, Ichigo stepped out into the night air. So Grimmjow knew about Vizard, he'd almost expected it since most fighters in the Tokyo area looked down on the club, "yeah I work here once every few months when I need some extra cash. That's not why I'm calling though…your friend Halibel is here."

"What! Is she with a man who looks like he's about to fall asleep?"

"No Grimmjow, she's…" Ichigo pulled the phone away from his face cursing under his breath, he knew that the man was about to explode and he didn't have the eardrums to handle it right now, "she's in the ring right now."

Silence stretched on before a very stern voice responded, "get back in there and wait for us. I'll call you when we get there."

"We? Grimm, who are you bringing?" the line went dead before he could get his answers. With a stream of profane curses Ichigo walked back into the club, hearing the crowd roaring with life as the fight had already started. Stepping pass the two guys who were still puking their guts up, he found his spot back up on the second level beside the two university students and watched the fight.

Halibel was fast and she was effective. Ichigo had seen enough cage fights to know a gifted fighter when he saw one and for only the minute that he had been back she had managed to get Shishigawara onto his knees with a well aimed kick to his abdominal region. But the man was fast at recovering hopping out of the way from a fist that was aimed for his head. Crouching like a panther, Shishigawara sprung like a predator one of his 'Jackpot Knuckles' connecting with Halibel's stomach sending her stumbling back. He continued his assault with a few shots that she avoided easily, before a low sweep took her legs out from under her.

Falling to the ground Shishigawara grabbed her in some sort of a headlock. Panic struck her as she attempted to wrestle out of the hold before the man could try and knock her out. She looked like she was struggling, as her elbows flailed at the man's side hoping to get a lucky shot in on him, luck would prevail as the man's face showed visible pain. Halibel hit a soft spot it seems. The fighters rolled apart but did not waste a second as both launched as each other with a flurry of fists and kicks. Halibel had gone on the offensive, trying to block as many of Shishigawara's fists from connecting as possible.

The tides turned in her favour when it looked like everything connected. Evading an extended punch, Halibel sidestepped one of her fists finding it linking with the soft muscle on his side. The man stumbled back giving Halibel the opening for a three-pronged attack, stepping forward her other fist exploded against the man's jaw make the man stupor as though he were in a bit of a daze. Next she kicked his feet out from under him bringing the same foot in one swift arc motion raising it above her head before bringing it down onto his chest. That seriously looked like some Mortal Kombat shit right there.

Just as the crowd went ballistic at the turn of events Ichigo felt his phone start to go off, heading back to the door he told Grimmjow to come around to the back he'd let him in. Waiting in the alley his arms started to shake as the cold air prickled against his skin, there was a drastic temperature change between the outside world and the club. He wouldn't be surprised if he had pit stains just from the sheer heat of the excited crowd. He had little time to think about the cold as two figures approached him one familiar and one new. His heart skipped a short beat at the sight of a menacing Grimmjow walking towards him, even if the man had a cast on one hand he was the type of guy who you didn't mess with.

The man who walked beside him didn't look any happier. Intimidating yet fatigued silver eyes starred Ichigo down as the pair approached him. Long curly brown hair framed a handsome face that belonged on someone who should be the face of men's health. Ichigo held the door open for the two, the new guy not even saying a hello as entered into the thumping club leaving Grimmjow and Ichigo outside.

"Who's that?" asked Ichigo as he entered into the club, veering a right behind one of the bars that he stored his stuff early that night. He didn't trust some of the other DJs that Shinji hired so he would always hide his stuff behind the bar in the second floor whenever he worked at Vizard.

"Coyote Starrk," shouted Grimmjow, leaning against the bar looking over the counter to see what the other was doing. Popping back up, Ichigo had his coat in one arm and his leather messenger bag in the other. They got back out of the club as swiftly as they entered, deciding to wait outside for the other two in case something had gone less than expected, "he's Hal's fiancé or boyfriend or whatever…"

"You don't even know if your friend is engaged?"

"She's not really my friend per say," Grimmjow answered, his good hand going through his blue locks. Ichigo had come to realize that this was a sign of nervousness in the man.

"She isn't is she," Ichigo felt the bite in his voice as blue eyes connected with his own, "she is. You're just one of those people who hate to call other people their friends."

Grimmjow stood their completely dumbfounded at what he had just said, he could see the gears turning in the other's eyes but it was obvious that there wasn't much he could say. Had Ichigo struck a cord? Instead of continuing that conversation Grimmjow shifted gears entirely, "thanks for callin Berry, Hal…Hal hasn' been in the right mind lately."

"Don't thank me just yet."

Grimmjow chuckled with anxious mirth, as he knew that the worse was next to come, "it's good to see ya again Ichi."

Before either could respond the door that they had been standing beside flew open and the blonde woman and the fatigued man stumbled out. Ichigo unconsciously took a step towards Grimmjow, not really sure what was about to happen next. Neither of them looked entirely pleased as the man – Starrk – slammed the door behind him.

"What the fuck were you thinking Halibel?" asked Starrk, his fist connecting with the metal door sending a loud bang that could've probably been heard inside the club, "you know damn well the kind of shit that goes on ins Vizard."

"I'm not a fucking child Starrk, also you need to take it down a notch," Halibel sternly responded not backing away from the threat.

"I need to take it _down_? That's a riot. You could've gotten badly hurt in there! You know damn well Shinji doesn't consider the safety of his fighters."

"Don't you preach to me Coyote. I knew damn well what I was getting myself into, and I damn well wasn't going to lose against someone called Lucky Shot – or whatever."

Grimmjow leaned in down to Ichigo to whisper into his ear, "she won?"

Ichigo replied quietly not wanting to bring unwanted attention to himself, "yeah. It was pretty awesome too."

"How did you even know I was here Starrk?"

"Grimmjow told me and thank god he did."

Halibel whipped around to look at Grimmjow and Ichigo for the first time since stepping out of the club. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Ichigo standing beside the blue haired man, "who are you?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo ma'am. I was DJ-ing here…I was the one who called Grimm—"

"Word of advice Kurosaki-san. Mind your own fucking business. This doesn't concern you or Jaegerjaquez in the slightest."

"Back off Halibel," Grimmjow warned stepping a fraction in front of Ichigo to try and shield him from the woman.

"Don't you dare turn this on Kurosaki-san Halibel," Starrk piped back up, his fist hitting the door again this time with less force. The other hand rubbed his eyes, his shoulders slouching like the weight of everything was just too much for him, "he didn't do anything wrong." Ichigo picked up on the hint that there was something more going on then he should know, it made him want to leave and give them their privacy but he couldn't for the life of him move, "Hal I know."

"You know what!?" shouted Halibel turning her rage back onto Starrk.

"I know about the miscarriage."

Everyone visibly flinched at the word. Halibel's colour drained from her face, her hands that had curled into fists – probably ready to attack Ichigo – unclenched, and her mouth hung agape. Grimmjow's eyes widened as he looked between the two, waiting for someone to say something. Ichigo felt numbness in his fingers. It made sense now why she was at Vizard; she was fighting away the pain in her heart trying to inflict some damage on the physical. Trying to distract the ache in her soul at loosing her child. He let his hand grab onto Grimmjow's, feeling the other's fingers close and tighten the grip.

"Babe I know about the miscar—"

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare say that word again," Halibel said as tears fell from her eyes, "how…how did you know?"

"I saw some of the blood on the rug in the washroom, the missing towels, your depression…" Starrk listed off, as his voice grew softer with each point. It was a struggle for him to continue but he did, "why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Because I couldn't. We tried, we tried so hard for her and she died in me," Halibel sobbed as she fell to the ground, her hands covering her eyes trying to hide her tears, "our baby, our Lilynette. I couldn't tell you that I had lost another one again. I can't bare it the fact that we can't start a family…"

Starrk went over to her falling to the ground and embracing her. Both cried into each other, Ichigo could do nothing but observe as Halibel's body shook with exhaustion, "we'll get through this babe. We'll get through this."

* * *

Ichigo found himself in Grimmjow's arms as the early morning light came through the man's shades. They had driven home Halibel and Starrk once the pair was able to stand. After that they had decided to just crash at Grimmjow's place. It was well into the early morning by the time they had dropped the pair off, once back at Grimmjow's place Ichigo could only remember being taken to the large bed he slept in now and pacing out. He did not expect for Grimmjow to be the cuddling type but apparently he was.

He trailed his fingers over the rough plaster of the cast that the man wore before spinning over to look at the room. There wasn't much to his room that really stuck out, except a picture frame that was faced down on his nightstand. Though curiosity was killing him to flip it over, Ichigo thought it was best not too. Ever since they had parted from Halibel and Starrk something had been weighing on his mind, something he should've done a very long time ago.

Wiggling out of Grimmjow's grasp he stood and grabbed his phone, walking out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him he entered into the living area. The sun was just rising as Ichigo searched up the number on the Internet. Dialling the digits Google had given him he waited until a woman's voice picked up on the other end.

"Karakura Correctional Institution, what is the number of the inmate that you wish to speak to?" responded the woman's tired voice. He was actually surprised that she would let him talk to someone. They were probably in the middle of breakfast at this time.

"7-3-9-5-A-S-4-B" spoke Ichigo clearly.

"One moment please."

The line went to hold as the receiver beeped, weighting for the inmate to pickup on the other end. His nerves were telling him to hang up and just forget about the whole thing. Just go back to bed with the man sleeping in the bed, then go and get eggs or some sort of breakfast with him when they both woke back up.

"Hello?" an angelic woman's voice answered, just like how he remembered she would sound.

With a shaky breath Ichigo answered the light from the morning sun rising past the tall building to bring in the new dawn, "hey mom…it's your Strawberry."

* * *

 **Halibel has always been one of my favourite characters and I hope I did her character justice in this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, took me forever to write it.**

 **The song Ichigo was singing**

 **Open: Rhye**

 **Thank you -Yaks**


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